Our First Drinking Party
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···
“···.”
I figured it’d be fine since Eungae Nose passed on the news.
But from the looks of things, I was way too naive.
Call... better do it now.
Unlike with Ichinose Jun, this was totally out of left field.
My throat tightens with nerves, saliva gulping down hard.
Just as I steady myself to hit call—
Ring! Ring! Riiiing!
Juyeon calls again.
I jolt in surprise and hurry to the corner of the parking lot to pick up. My voice booms out automatically.
“Yes! Instructor! Rohan here!”
“...You picked up fast. I was about to head to Samhwa Nation if you dodged this one.”
Her low voice carries no hint of joking. But there's no real anger either.
I sense relief woven in, which only makes me feel worse.
“Sorry...! Situation's handled. Just walked out of the station.”
“Yeah, heard that much. Got help from one hell of a figure.”
“···.”
Word from her Samhwa Nation contacts? Or Ichinose's report?
Either works.
“Hurt anywhere?”
“Just scrapes. Station patched me up clean.”
“...Glad to hear it.”
“All thanks to your top-notch training, Instructor.”
“If you couldn't sweet-talk, I'd cut it here. Always one word too many with you, Rohan.”
“Ah.”
“No clue how many times I've said it, but first student in a semester to rattle your instructor like this. Honestly...”
I can tell Juyeon has plenty more brewing behind those trailing words.
Limits what I can say.
“Sorry.”
“Nah, you did good. Gotta praise the good stuff. Damn fine work.”
“···.”
Thanks for the praise? Maybe?
I roll my eyes like she can see through the phone.
“Still, instructor's gotta play it straight. Can't just baby you. You get it?”
“···You're right.”
“Ended clean enough, but that process... Sigh, getting long-winded. Save it for when you're back.”
“Yes!”
“Love that snappy answer.”
Wait, that's not—
Gut screams I messed up.
“So, quick chat with your instructor when you return? You love our time together, so no refusing, right?”
“Of... course...!”
Subtle amusement in her tone.
But I'm drenched in cold sweat.
Call ends. I slip out from the parking corner.
Join the group, crane my neck. No Ichinose Jun.
“Father?”
“He just left. Said you looked busy, don't disturb.”
Regret stings—no goodbye. Deep breath.
Fiddle with the handed-over key.
“Talked to Instructor Juyeon?”
“···Yeah. Meeting when we hit Academy City.”
“Noah and I probably too.”
“Likely.”
Noah startles behind me, tail shooting straight up.
She clings to Clara playfully, rubbing cheeks. What now?
“While you were calling, we wrapped with Mom. Noah's mom hopped on too.”
“Call back? I wanna explain.”
My plea, but Ichinose shakes her head firm.
Resume the trip now.
“Mom said chat after. Not mad at all. Pass on 'well done.'”
“Phew··· really?”
She giggles at my exhale.
Then guides me to the standout luxury SUV in the station lot.
“Rohan. Got the key?”
“This one? Way too fancy.”
Press—beep! Responds.
Unlock chirps. Noah dives into the back door.
“I'm first!”
“We good to ride?”
Ichinose nods like duh for Sion.
Sion grabs Clara's hand, plops into the spacious seats.
“Us too.”
“Uh···.”
Ichinose slides into passenger like old hat. I fumble into driver.
Sink into seat—leagues beyond the Academy City rental.
“Dad said ride easy. Scratches or dents? No biggie.”
Yet odometer's barely triple digits.
Basically brand new.
Thanks to Ichinose Jun in my head, fire it up.
Perfect vibe reset for trip 2.0.
Vroooom—!!!
Power lives up to the bulk.
Unlike last ride, back's roomy—everyone comfy.
“Sweet! Market first?”
“Luggage mule all trip! Grill killer, got it?”
Noah growls eager from back, like she's waited forever.
“Duh. Abuse away.”
Answer, floor it out the lot.
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We hit a big but weathered mart.
Really drives home the beach vacay vibe.
“Oppa··· this okay?”
“Totally. Load up whatever.”
Clara drops jelly in cart. Noah's hoard dwarfs it.
Already stacked heavy: meat, sausages, veggies, ramen.
No grill or gas needed—convenient.
Lodging's first floor stocked basics. Just ingredients.
“Rohan. Booze recs? Clueless here.”
“Hmm··· tasty booze! Tonic for highballs? Wine cool too.”
“Your pick.”
“Clara? First sips—wanna something?”
“M-me, oppa's rec···!”
Wanna give Sion and Clara a good intro booze.
They got iron wills.
Better teach enjoyment over aversion.
“Ichinose?”
Gaze to the girl beside. Eyes shut, she reads it.
“Highball sounds good. Sipped some with Mom. Noah'll dig it.”
Her thumbs-up seals it.
Generous tonic, whiskey haul.
“Ice too··· Noah where?”
“Snack aisle. Booze on us.”
Had to laugh.
Noah's antics crack me up.
“Found me?”
Speak of the tiger.
Noah returns, arms bursting with snacks.
“···Noah. That much?”
“Snacks alone? Nah, ice cream too! Girls got meal tummy, dessert tummy separate?”
“···.”
Cart avalanche of junk and frozen.
Ichinose zips it resigned. I chuckle, push on.
“Total: 83 coins, 30 tokens. Points card?”
“Nope.”
“Payment?”
“Cash.”
All in—cart's topped with a bulging food hill.
Price? Eye-watering.
Mostly meat and booze, but grocery splurge like this? First for me.
“Starving! Grill now! Ramen too!”
Near the car, Noah tail-taps impatient.
Chuckle, nod. Two station rice bowls—poof, gone?
“Gotcha. Hard day—proper feast.”
Glad her tail ain't whipping despite my mule gig.
Stack trunk neat.
Arrival: girls rest, I hustle prep.
They humored my detour today—no lifting a finger.
Solo's quicker.
Group fun's great, but dawdle and hungry tiger bites.
Ramen water on, grill: meat one side, onions/veggies other.
Ice to glasses, quick highballs, table 'em tidy.
Sizzle!
Meat golden, ramen bubbling fierce.
Good to call 'em.
“Done! Grub time.”
Girls flock from beach stroll at my shout.
“Whoa! Mule slayed!”
“Rohan. Good work.”
“Hard work.”
“Oppa··· thanks!”
No sweat, I raise my glass.
They grab theirs sharp.
Our landmark first drinking bash kicks off.