My Mom's Got Moves (3)

Lunch at the restaurant wrapped up satisfyingly. I have no idea how Dad interpreted the meaning of this meal, but at least in that moment of eating, he must've enjoyed it.

"Phew, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that was delicious."

"Th-thank you for the meal. It was really good."

"Puha, my stomach filled up faster than I thought."

"Glad you enjoyed it. Wasn't the portion too small? You gave half of it to Ha-min, so it might've been a bit short."

"I'm fine. What about you, Mom? You barely touched the eel. You hate seafood, so why'd you insist on coming here?"

"Mom's got a way to get it all back later."

Mom set her chopsticks down on her simple rice bowl and shot Dad a subtle smile.

"Right, Do-young's dad?"

"…."

Looks like the eel Mom had her eye on was somewhere else entirely.

"Anyway, this is rare. You turning down food, Do-young? You're not like me—you don't hate seafood. You seemed to eat it just fine earlier."

"Haha, maybe I had too much cola and popcorn at the glasses shop earlier."

The eel rice bowl for lunch was a generous special portion. I'd just polished off popcorn and cola at the optician's, so I wasn't that hungry to begin with. If anything, if I hadn't given half to Do Ha-min, I would've been the one leaving good food behind.

"Well, half the eel can just be paid back later, right? Like Mom said."

"Hehe, you're thinking pretty far ahead."

"Learned from the best."

Be grateful, future me—the original Ban Do-young I'll return to. All these little scraps I'm collecting in your stead? You'll be the one reaping the harvest at the end. By then, I'll have wrapped up the story and gone back to my original world. Please, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠let me see that happy smile from the finale on my laptop screen.

"Thanks for the great meal as always. I'll stop by again next time I'm back in Korea."

"Thank you, Teacher Jun-sook. Please come again."

Mom paid the hefty bill with her card—watching the front digits vanish was a relief—and we ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠left the restaurant with satisfied steps, piling into the car.

…

After the meal, I got out of Dad's car at the subway station with Do Ha-min to see him off.

"Was the eel good?"

"Yeah. Probably one of the best I've ever had. Kinda feel bad just eating and running, though…"

"Nah. From Mom's perspective right now, you'd probably feel worse sticking around the dojo longer. Our house isn't great with soundproofing. No neighbors nearby means no complaints, that's all."

The original plan was to get his new glasses fitted and head back to the dojo for a light session, but he decided to go straight home after lunch to give us family some long-overdue time together.

"You won't get lost on the way back like you did coming here, now that you've got new peepers."

"Oh, I didn't really get lost coming. The route's familiar now anyway."

"Hmph, too bad. Kinda hoped you'd pretend not to see, play dumb, and bury your face in my chest again. Weren't you banking on that today?"

"I never even thought of that…!"

Liar—he'd already done it once and played it off.

I'd already seen it all and even led you there myself.

"Mom's back from overseas after so long. You should ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠let the family have more time. She's heading back up soon, right?"

"Yeah, Tuesday morning flight, I think."

Mom's stay at home was barely three days. She rushed back to Korea this week for personal reasons, but it wasn't a full return. You can't just leave your adorable second-year middle school little girl overseas forever. With the tournament coming up, she'll need to be there for strict coaching again. Discipline and training stress out the receiver and the giver. Mom probably needed her own recharge time before the next one.

Poor Dad, though.

"Aw, bummer. These new glasses needed a proper breaking-in."

"Say stuff like that carelessly, and the dojo master might get the wrong idea."

"Kekeke, if I get scolded, it's on me."

"I-I don't want you getting in trouble because of me."

"Why not? It's not like you're getting scolded."

"W-well, obviously…"

Do Ha-min turned his head away, flustered for a moment. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him toward me.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"Don't want anyone overhearing. Even model student's gotta stay quiet. Your voice only gets loud when you're embarrassed."

Our faces drew close enough for our hair to brush. Unlike Do Ha-min's soft voice that always dropped low except when yelling, Ban Do-young's was naturally louder and clearer. Ever since possessing this body, I'd gotten "tone it down" warnings from bystanders just from raising it a bit. Without consciously trying, my normal voice would carry crystal clear to everyone around.

So I whispered at the smallest volume I could muster—just loud enough for Do Ha-min, whose shoulder was pinned to my arm, to hear.

"You said you hate the idea of me getting in trouble because of you?"

"…Yeah."

"Then cover for me if it happens."

So no one else could hear.

Just for this guy whose shoulders I was holding.

I breathed softly into his ear.

"You're on my side, right? Keep being on my side from now on."

"That… all I gotta do?"

"Huh? Don't wanna be on my side? Whose side then?"

"Ugh, doing it again…!"

"Puhahaha, look at that instant face reaction!"

"Don't laugh!"

I'd whispered just for him, but his reaction cracked me up anyway.

With that, we plopped on the bench, bickering as we waited for his train. That day, more than ever, the wait felt endless.

"Oh, train's delayed."

Damn, it actually was.

"What the—? We've waited 20 minutes already, and now another 10? Does your train always do this?"

"No, not every day. Weird for today. Don't worry about me—go ahead. Your parents are waiting upstairs."

"…."

His one caring line. For a second, I lifted off the bench like I might actually go.

"Nah, forget it."

Thud.

But I bit my lip and sat right back down. If I climbed those stairs now following his words, those 20 minutes we'd waited together would mean nothing.

"I'm fine."

"No way. Wasted 20 minutes then? And… ditching right after I said we're on the same side? Kinda embarrassing."

"…Pfft. Sounds like middle school buddies hanging out."

"What a jerk."

"…They were guys."

"Oh, right."

I was the dense one back then.

"Here, take this."

"Huh? What's this."

Do Ha-min pulled a drink can from his bag—the one that held his dobok.

"Zero Lime…? You know subway and station vending machines rip you off."

"N-no, not that. Bought it at the convenience store near my house. 1+1 like you said. No rip-off."

"Then why'd you stash it in your bag?"

"'Cause I brought my dobok expecting a lesson. Gotta bring lesson fees too, right? One Zero Lime can per session minimum. Yeah?"

I took the cola he offered. Our deal to skip overpriced spots like subways and stations. The "tuition" for his first kendo lesson. Right there in my hand.

"I-it got kinda lukewarm unintentionally since time dragged… but maybe drink it while waiting for the delayed train 'cause of me? Or, uh, if it's too warm, I can get a cold one from that vending machine?"

"Nah, this is good."

Hiss.

The tepid fizz of the cola tab. I chugged it in one go. The weak bubbles hit without pause, making me hiccup and my chest bounce, but I didn't care.

"Kah…."

"Y-you okay?"

"So this is what Do Ha-min tastes like."

Lukewarm warmth, flat fizz.

The world's worst cola.

I drained it without a single pause.