Date or Not a Date?
"Figured out what you want to eat?"
"Uh, well… not exactly…"
This was bad.
It hadn't bothered me at all a moment ago, but the second I actually registered the situation, my nerves spiked and my heart started hammering like crazy.
"Come on, think of something. I told you I'm buying."
Cheon Sojin kept pressing, and my head only got more tangled.
What do I do?
My thoughts were a complete mess.
What do people even eat on a date? Was I supposed to suggest pasta right about now?
No, wait—was this even a date? From the team leader's perspective, she'd just finished my checkup, it happened to be lunchtime, and she was grabbing a meal before heading back. If I suddenly pitched pasta, wouldn't she think, What's with this guy?
But suggesting the usual safe bets—soup rice or spicy pork—felt wrong too. Even if this wasn't a date, eating with a woman and ordering soup rice or spicy pork just… didn't sit right.
Right. Pork cutlet. Let's go with pork cutlet.
Someone had said it once—they'd never met a woman who hated pork cutlet. Not so blatantly date-coded that it'd be awkward, but not bland either. The perfect middle ground.
Yeah. That was it. That was the answer.
"How about pork cutlet, Team Leader?"
Cheon Sojin stopped walking for a second. She looked over at me and tilted her head slightly.
"Pork cutlet?"
"Yeah. I just… suddenly got a craving."
She let out a short laugh.
"Nope."
"…Sorry?"
"Pork cutlet's way too greasy. All that fat triggers inflammation. Something else—anything but pork cutlet?"
Now what?
I genuinely hadn't expected the pork cutlet to get shot down. I'd honestly thought it was close to the right answer…
My mind went completely blank. Nothing came to me.
"Uh, just… anything…"
With zero menu options left in my head, the magic word slipped out before I could stop it. Cheon Sojin narrowed her eyes.
"Anything?"
A brief silence. She studied my face for a moment, then huffed a quiet laugh.
"You know that's the most impossible answer, right?"
"…Yes."
I hadn't done anything wrong, and yet some invisible force made me hang my head like a guilty man. It felt exactly like getting scolded by my mom back in school.
"Well, I guess that tracks. Ask any of the players what they want to eat and they all say 'anything.'"
"It's just… I eat pretty much everything, so…"
"Then that's even worse. You're an athlete. If you'll eat anything, you're not managing your body."
…Okay, she had a point there.
Cheon Sojin gave a small laugh mixed with a sigh.
"Fine. I'll pick, then. Do you like sushi?"
"Oh—yeah. I like sushi."
"Perfect."
She pulled out her phone and dialed someone.
"Hi, Chef. Sorry to bother you when you're busy. Do you have a table? Ah, yes, yes. Two people. We'll be right there."
She hung up, smiled at me, and gave a light little wave for me to follow. At that single gesture, I fell into step behind her without a word of protest.
Out on the main road in front of the hospital, Cheon Sojin flagged down a taxi. Being near a hospital, there were plenty waiting. When the driver's window rolled down, she gave the destination.
"Sushi ○○○○, please."
The driver nodded.
"Got it."
The taxi stopped at the end of a quiet alley. The surrounding shops were ordinary enough, but one place stood completely apart.
A wood-toned exterior with a clean signboard. Just the restaurant's name written neatly in black on white cloth, and beside the entrance, a tall bamboo planter set lengthwise. It looked less like a restaurant and more like the entrance to a gallery.
…This is way too upscale.
Through the glass, a polished wood counter gleamed, and the guests inside were dining in a serious, hushed atmosphere. I suddenly felt self-conscious about even the sound of my own footsteps.
W-wait a second. Is this actually a date?
I was a lifelong single, so what did I know—but would a front-office staffer normally take a player somewhere this fancy and atmospheric just to buy him lunch? I'd been picturing a decent sushi place. This felt like something else entirely.
M-maybe I should've just gone with pasta after all.
According to the relationship advice I'd seen online, women usually liked it when the guy took the lead. Had saying "anything" disappointed her?
Okay. It's not too late. At least open the door for her.
I hurried ahead and grabbed the handle.
"I've got it."
Except—
"…It won't open?"
Flustered, I yanked a few more times. It didn't budge an inch. Beside me, Cheon Sojin snorted a laugh.
"Wrong one."
With practiced ease, she took hold of the actual door.
"It's this one."
…I'm done for.
My face burned instantly. I'd tried to look smooth and instead couldn't even find the right door, flailing around like an idiot.
I could see her holding back a smile. I cleared my throat for no reason and looked away.
Calm down, Doyoon… Stop trying so hard.
It felt like I'd just filmed a slapstick comedy sketch right in front of her. My face was still hot, but once the embarrassment passed, the situation came into sharper focus.
Right. Think about it. We just came to get lunch.
The team leader's treating a player to a meal. Why am I the only one overthinking this…?
I sighed inwardly. Looking at Cheon Sojin's face, she didn't show a single trace of the nerves I was drowning in.
This is exactly why lifelong singles stay single…
The thought that I'd gotten way ahead of myself brought a small pang of disappointment, but at least it settled me down a little. My heart was still racing, but at least my brain wasn't spinning out the way it had a minute ago.
When the door opened, a soft wood fragrance drifted out. Even the air felt different. The moment I stepped inside, the thought hit me unbidden: Yeah. This place is the real deal.
"Hello—I just made a reservation. Cheon Sojin."
"Ah, yes. Ms. Cheon Sojin. Party of two, correct? One moment."
The server bowed in greeting, then turned toward the kitchen and called for someone.
"Chef, your guests have arrived."
The chef, who'd been prepping fish in the kitchen, looked up. When our eyes met, he smiled as if genuinely pleased. Veins stood out clearly on the arms rolled up over his white apron. Judging by the exterior alone, I'd expected some elderly master craftsman—but he looked surprisingly young, maybe mid-thirties.
"Oh, Sojin. It's been a while."
"It has. You've been well?"
"Of course. ── is doing alright?"
Huh? What was that?
It sounded like he'd said something, but the clatter of dishes buried the exact words.
That was when Cheon Sojin lifted a finger to her lips.
"I brought a player with me today. Shh."
"…Ah. Understood."
At that gesture, the chef's eyes went round, and he nodded in reply.
He hesitated a moment, then started to come out himself to show us to a table. Cheon Sojin shot him a subtle look. He stopped short and quietly nodded.
"Please show them to their seats."
"Yes, Chef."
A server approached and bowed politely.
"Right this way."
…What's going on?
The way the chef and the staff treated Cheon Sojin was strangely off. It went beyond the usual courtesy reserved for guests—too deferential, almost.
Is this normal?
Maybe it was just because I'd never been somewhere this high-end. I wasn't used to this kind of reception.
Following the server deeper inside, I found a sliding door at the end of the hallway. I hadn't realized the place went back this far.
The server carefully opened the door.
"We'll seat you in this room."
Inside was a small tatami table that could seat about four. Soft lighting glowed gently, and a faint wood scent drifted through the air, creating an effortlessly refined atmosphere.
Cheon Sojin smiled lightly and sat down first. When the server closed the door, every sound from outside vanished. Just stillness.
Unaccustomed to the mood, I found myself dropping my voice to something near a whisper.
"I've never been somewhere like this."
"Make yourself comfortable. The food'll be out soon."
Cheon Sojin's ease was completely natural. And then there was the way the chef and staff had treated her.
The first time we'd met, it had simply been her looks that made her hard to approach.
This was different.
The way she sat in a place like this as if it were nothing, and that peculiar deference from the chef and staff—what I was feeling now wasn't just the wall of her appearance. It was a sense of distance, like Cheon Sojin belonged to some other world entirely.
"…Do you come to places like this often?"
She tilted her head slightly and echoed the question.
"Places like this? What do you mean?"
She gave a small laugh.
"If you mean sushi, I eat it pretty often."
"No, I mean—just looking at it, it seems insanely expensive…"
"Come on. Of course I can't come often."
She waved a hand dismissively.
"Today's a special occasion—celebrating Doyoon's elbow getting better. So you'd better work hard from now on, okay? Because of you, I'm going to be eating nothing but cup ramen for the rest of the month. Sob, sob."
She said it while playfully pretending to cry, but the questions still hadn't left me.
For someone who 'can't come often,' she sure seemed to know the chef…
"Shall we look at the menu first?"
I set the lingering doubts aside for now and checked the menu.
Whoa… is this for real?
Then a thought suddenly crossed my mind.
Alright. Let's test it.
I deliberately picked the most expensive item on the list.
"How about this one, then?"
Cheon Sojin glanced at the menu, and for a split second her expression stiffened.
"Th-that one's… a little…"
She trailed off. The fluster was written all over her face.
Hmm… doesn't seem like she's acting.
I scratched my head for no particular reason. It was, by any measure, the genuine reaction of someone who'd just seen the price and been caught off guard.
I closed the menu with a small smile.
"Just kidding. Anything's fine, really."