My Mom's a Total Badass (4)
After watching Do Ha-min board the train, I headed back down to the parking lot under the station. The station itself buzzes with crowds coming and going all day, but the lot below? Barely a soul. Why would anyone with a car take the subway, especially here where it's just regular trains, no high-speed line? Ban Do-young's neighborhood was much the same—people only parked briefly to pick up friends or family who'd just arrived. Otherwise, it was avoided for being noisy, dark, and sketchy.
"Oops, took too long."
I'd asked them to wait just 20 minutes for Do Ha-min's train, but a delay turned it into 30, leaving Mom and Dad stranded in this dim, deserted corner of the lot. Thank goodness our van was that eye-catching yellow Carnival. Otherwise, I'd have spent ages hunting for it myself.
"Sorry, the train was delayed. I didn't want to ditch Do Ha-min, so I waited with him till it came."
Gulp.
It wasn't my fault, but I'd still wasted their time unintentionally, so I apologized and yanked open the middle door.
Whoosh!
A blast of stifling heat poured out, like a white-hot smokescreen slapping my face. The car hadn't been this roasting when Do Ha-min and I left it earlier.
"What the—why's it so damn hot in here?"
It wasn't just hot; it was sauna-level steamy. And this was mid-March, still chilly early spring. Even in daylight, this spot under the tracks got no direct sun—hence the gloom.
"Ahem!"
"Come on in. Did you see Ha-min off okay?"
Dad and Mom, up front, greeted me with slightly flustered voices.
"Y-You're back sooner than we thought."
"Huh? I waited an extra 10 minutes at the station because of the delay—what're you talking about?"
"Oh... r-right? We were having such a nice catch-up, time flew by. Right, Do-young's dad?"
"Y-Yeah..."
Mom brought a hand to her mouth in that refined laugh, but... her neat hair from 30 minutes ago was a little mussed.
"Anyway, what's with the car? AC busted?"
"H-Hot, huh? Want me to air it out?"
Dad was the same. The jacket he'd worn leaving the dojo was gone, and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone.
"Hmm..."
"W-What's up?"
I pointed at Dad and tapped my right cheek.
"Dad, you got eel sauce smeared on your face from earlier."
"Oh, really? I thought I'd wiped it off before we left."
"Here, Do-young's dad. Tissue."
"Thanks, Do-young's mom."
Dad checked the rearview, grabbed the tissue from Mom, and frantically dabbed at his mouth. As the sauce-like smudges vanished, a weird cosmetic scent—not eel—filled the air from the tissue.
"Huh, the eel sauce was brown earlier, but this spot looks all red."
"..."
"..."
Just like the pink-red tint Mom had on her lips today.
"Did you two sneak some tasty treat without me and Do Ha-min?"
Or maybe Mom herself.
"W-what treat?! We sat here stock-still waiting for you kids!"
"I see. Hearing you just waited makes me feel even worse for being late."
"It's fine, you could've taken longer."
"Really? Should I step out for a bit then?"
"What're you saying? We all need to head home. Right, Do-young's dad?"
"R-right...! Mom's gotta be tired from the flight—let's get home, unpack, and rest! Homeward bound!"
Dad wiped sweat from his brow and cranked the engine. As we pulled out of the lot, Mom pulled out her compact from her bag and fixed her hair and makeup. Her hands moved so swiftly and expertly that by the time Dad paid at the booth, she was back to her poised, elegant self from earlier.
"Dad, I'm bored. Put on some music on the way home."
"S-sure? Grab a CD from the console box between the seats?"
Dad pointed to the spot between driver and passenger for the CD stash.
"Whoa, our car plays CDs? Kinda high-tech. I figured you guys were still stuck on cassette players."
"What? You didn't know how to Bluetooth the speakers, and now this?"
"Come on, you're not that old-school."
"No, I swear I thought you were on cas—! ...sette players."
"Ban Do-young."
"Kekekeke!"
"We'll talk when we get home."
It only took five minutes by car from the station to home. Though the whole ride was filled with my laughter.
"We're home!"
Our house—or rather, the Ban Do-young house I needed to get used to as mine. I bolted up the stairs to my room. With all my outdoor errands done for the day, I wanted to strip off these clothes and reclaim my freedom ASAP.
"Ban Do-young."
"Yeah? What, Mom?"
"Change into your kendo uniform and come down to the dojo."
"...Huh?"
"I heard you're back at kendo. Wanna spar after so long? Do-young's dad can ref."
I had no idea then that "we'll talk at home" wasn't an idle threat.
......
"I'll head down first. Don't dawdle."
"...You already changed?"
The second we got home, Mom swapped into her kendo gear and vanished downstairs. I had some confidence in quick changes from my military days, but by the time I scrambled into mine, she was already geared up in the dojo.
"Does Sergeant Cheok use shrinking spells or something?"
Down in the dojo, there she was in the center: kneeling primly, deep in meditation. Hair pinned up tight, kendo uniform on— she looked every bit as stunning as the ethereal beauty Ban Do-young. Slap their photos on a flyer, and male enrollment would triple.
"Whoa, Mom. You look like a total master like that."
"Heh, can't deny it. Your mom's a former national youth rep in kendo."
"Ooh..."
"You knew that—why play dumb?"
"R-right."
I was impressed by her beauty in uniform, sure, but that wasn't all. Mom was the one who'd taught Dad— the dojo master—kendo. Her experience had to match or exceed his. That aura she gave off? Total proof.
"She's taking this seriously. Even wearing her pristine white uniform she never uses."
Veterans show their skill from the jump. My uniform was wrinkled from being shoved in the closet; hers was ironed sharp, lines straight as arrows. Pure white, spotless—no dust, no stains. Her unyielding posture and steady breaths screamed master. Not some decorative sword-toting beauty, but a true martial artist honing mind and blade.
"Do-young's mom looks pumped."
"Yeah. It's been ages since we crossed swords with Do-young. She's looking forward to it."
They chatted calmly, happily—like fellow warriors, not longing spouses.
"How's meditating at home feel, Mom?"
"Well..." Sip.
Mom inhaled deeply, slowly opened her eyes, and turned to Dad.
"Did you order pizza in the dojo?"
"Hic!"
"I said eat in the office, not the dojo."
"H-he started it! That jerk's a total punk!"
"B-Ban Do-young! Cheater!"
"Honey~?"
Ban Do-che did it. Ban Do-young's innocent.
"Ha-min was here too—the office felt too cramped for three..."
"Sigh... Fine. From now on, we'll let our swords do the talking."
Meditation over, Mom pulled black gear from storage and set it before me.
"I got your protective gear out already."
"Protective gear? Do Ha-min...?"
"Hogu—the armor for kendo."
Next to Mom, and my spot, sat my labeled set. Kendo gear's bulky for a reason—it's weapon combat.
"Remember what I promised? Allowance when we got home."
"Duh. My account's down to 974 won—I'm starving here."
"Wanna bet on it?"
Snap.
Mom cinched her men straps tight and held out a bamboo sword to me.
"Score even one point on me, and that 100,000 won becomes 200,000."