Same-Age Tutoring (3)
"H-Huh...? W-Where...?"
Ban Do-che, Ban Do-young's father, wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth as he opened his eyes, not even sure when he'd closed them. He was sitting on the sofa in his own home, having passed out from exhaustion at some point. After finishing all the student transport runs for the afternoon classes, he'd thought he'd just catch a quick nap on the sofa—and that had been his downfall.
"Evening class time... Phew, good thing. Still a bit left."
Do-che checked the time on his phone. 6:00 PM. He still had about 30 minutes before evening classes started. Looked like he'd been out cold on the sofa for roughly half an hour. No doubt it was due to the sleep deprivation from the past few days. No matter how much nutrition he loaded up on the day before, his bed robbed him of it all every night. How could anyone hold up?
Sniff sniff. "This smell... Ooh. Looks like Do-young's mom is teaching Do-young cooking again tonight."
Gurgle. What woke the collapsed Do-che was his hunger-pang-ridden stomach growling and the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafting from the kitchen, seducing his empty belly. Nothing was as accurate as the belly clock.
"Do-young's mom is amazing. She has an early morning flight tomorrow, but she's still fully focused on teaching Do-young to cook dinner."
"Oh, you're up already."
"Ah, Do-young's mom."
Do-che rubbed his eyes and looked at his wife, Cheok Jun-sook, sitting beside him.
"You must be beat from all the driving. You were sleeping so soundly, I didn't want to wake you. Was it too noisy?"
"Nah, the good smells woke me up on their own. But honey..."
He'd assumed Jun-sook was in the kitchen with their daughter Do-young, but there she was, sitting apron-free by his side, waiting for him to wake.
"Weren't you in the kitchen with Do-young? You said you'd stick right by her so she wouldn't have an accident alone by the gas stove."
"She's not alone, so I stepped out."
"...Huh?"
"Come here for a sec. I wanna show you something."
Jun-sook crouched low by the sliding door to the kitchen like she was hiding and beckoned Do-che over. Still groggy from his nap, he followed reflexively, bewildered.
"Shh, keep your footsteps quiet."
"O-Okay..."
Do-che tiptoed forward on his heels like a burglar in his own house—an awkward pose for a kendo master who spent his life stomping loudly.
"What's this about? Feels just like when parents teach kids to ride a two-wheeler, hold on from behind, then sneak away."
"Skip the useless analogies and look at what's going on in there."
"What, thieves?"
"Hehe, not entirely wrong."
"What?!"
Who dared sneak into the Ban family kendo dojo at this hour to steal? Eyes blazing at Jun-sook's words, Do-che peered through the crack in the sliding door.
"You sure you can make it with just this many eggs? Isn't that too little? Even four eggs would make it more generous."
"Once you get the feel for success, you can scale up the portions. Plus, bigger ones tear easier."
"What the heck is that ant-piss amount of fish sauce! You think that'll flavor it right? It's a side dish for rice!"
"...You used fewer eggs, so obviously scale down the seasonings too."
"Oh, right. Makes sense now."
Beyond the kitchen, Do-young in an apron and Ha-min sat together by the gas stove, cooking. The mouthwatering aroma earlier had come from the egg roll they were making.
"Ha-min knows more about cooking than I thought."
"Now that I think about it, this time of day is when Ha-min's supposed to be learning kendo from Do-young. Looks like she's blown off today's kendo lesson to learn cooking from him instead."
"They insisted on doing it together, so I stepped out for a bit. She must've been pretty frustrated that she couldn't even cook as well as Ha-min."
"Do-young hates losing like crazy. Guess she takes after you."
"No, she takes after you."
As Do-young and Ha-min bickered in the kitchen, Do-che and Jun-sook bantered like kids reminiscing about old times.
"It's just a tiny bit, but... I think I get why Do-young picked up the bokken again to teach Ha-min kendo while still using her right hand."
"...Do-young's mom?"
"Means there's someone she wants to stay close to, even if it means doing that. Hehe."
"Hmm..."
Jun-sook smiled faintly watching the two.
"So, where's this thief you mentioned, Do-young's mom?"
"...You're so clueless about this stuff. That's why I couldn't wait any longer and spilled it to Si-young first."
"...Huh?"
Do-che tilted his head at Jun-sook's suddenly pitiful gaze.
* * *
Do Ha-min borrowed an apron from Mom and joined me in the kitchen. Just watching him tie it proved his advice wasn't bluffing. Unlike kendo uniforms, aprons tie at the waistband in the back, out of sight. Tying it smoothly meant he'd done it plenty of times.
"Easier to practice flipping with a spatula at first than chopsticks. Chopsticks can tear the eggs while picking them up."
"Ugh... Got it. Just roll it like this?"
"Yeah. Exactly. Lift it a bit and fold it over from the top."
"Ooh."
I tried Do Ha-min's simplified version of Mom's tricky method. It was still tough for a total cooking newbie like me—body and mind—but a notch easier, if not exactly simple.
"Wait, wait! The eggs are gonna stick to the spatula blade! What do I do?"
"Don't stand it upright. Don't scrape it off the pan—think of turning a page lightly."
"I don't know how much force to use since it's my first time. Mr. Model Student, come show me the feel."
"Even if you say 'show me the feel'..."
"Hold the spatula with me. I'll feel it out with my hands."
"...Huh?"
One feel in the hand beats hearing it a hundred times. I reached out to Do Ha-min for backup.
"Hurry! The bottom's gonna burn again!"
"O-Okay..."
Do Ha-min placed his hand over mine on the spatula, pretending to give in. Shorter than me, but as a guy, his hand easily covered the back of Ban Do-young's and gripped the handle.
"Ooh! Folded! So that's how!"
"H-How's it...? Get the idea now?"
"Yeah, uh. But the bottom's brown."
"It's fine. That's nicely browned. For brighter yellow next time, flip sooner."
"Ooh, brown counts as well-cooked?"
"It's not burnt...?"
"Ooh, wide strike zone. Even for people...?"
"...In a moment like this."
"Kekeke, sorry sorry. Anyway, our model student's forgiven. First egg roll success?"
With Do Ha-min's help, my first decent-looking egg roll landed on the plate. The oily, slightly brownish surface was definitely lacking compared to Mom's in shape and color.
But compared to my countless past failures chasing that perfection, this was way closer to a real egg roll. And much easier to make.
"Oh, delish."
And above all, it tasted great. Do Ha-min's egg-to-fish-sauce ratio was spot on. If I'd used my initial amounts, it might've reeked of fish by now.
Different from Mom's flavor, sure, but impossible to call one better. Maybe Ban Do-young's palate just loves any egg dish. Possible, but no way I'd deny the yumminess right now.
Yummy is yummy.
"D Decent?"
"Yeah, you try."
I handed him the egg roll I'd taken a bite from. He eyed the bite-marked cross-section and hesitated, stepping back.
"N-No, it's fine. I know the taste. It's self-study time anyway."
"What, scared I'll lie about it tasting good? I did it your way this time and it's legit tasty!"
"W-Wait... At least get separate chopsticks..."
"No way. Hate extra dishes. Just eat."
"N-No, I'm good! Self-study time, so I'll head out first!"
"Hey, model student!"
Do Ha-min hastily untied Mom's apron, grabbed his bag, and bolted from our house—without touching the egg roll he'd helped make.
"...Tch. Leaving this deliciousness behind."
I'd slobbered it up good, too.
* * *
"I'm home."
After self-study, Ha-min took the late train home. He slipped through the dark entryway without turning on the lights and headed to his room. Mom had waited up but fallen asleep first. Not really upsetting. She had early mornings too. They'd check in tomorrow morning.
"Gotta wash up quick and prep. Gym class tomorrow, so dig out the spare PE uniform..."
Vrrr.
His phone buzzed. A message. Rare this late. No one contacted him at this hour except Mom waiting up. Or really, almost no one messaged him period.
"Ah. It's her."
The sender: Do-young. Why message him near midnight? Worry overrode curiosity—what was wrong? Anxiety filled his head more than hope.
"Guess check this first."
Ha-min quietly entered his room and opened Do-young's messages.
"Phew, good."
Ha-min sighed in relief at the praise for his cooking. Tiny compared to what Do-young and her parents had given him, but maybe a small payback.
Moments later, a photo arrived from Do-young's contact.
"...?"
Vrrr.
Ha-min tossed his phone on the bed in frustration, but...
Download photo?
[Confirm / Cancel]
...he saved Do-young's childhood photo from the prompt to his gallery.