You're Kind of a Weird Guy
We found a table and sat down at the café.
Sitting across from each other only made things awkward all over again.
Yoon Arin half-hid her face behind the menu, sneaking glances, while I ended up staring out the window for no good reason.
Yesterday we'd been trading fists. Today we couldn't even manage a single word with a cup of coffee between us.
I was the one who broke the silence.
"…That left hook yesterday."
"…Huh?"
"Your counter timing was solid. I almost ate that one."
The second the words left my mouth I wanted to take them back.
Out on a date, and the first thing I talk about is replaying yesterday's match.
But Yoon Arin's eyes lit up in an instant.
"You're one to talk. How did you pull off that slip? My fist was definitely on target, and then it just slid right off at the end."
"Ah, that. You pull your upper body out of the way ahead of time—"
Before I knew it, we had a napkin spread across the table and were sketching out footwork.
The coffee went cold while the entire conversation stayed locked on fighting—defense this, distance that…
Strangely enough, that was exactly what melted the awkwardness between us.
Looking back, it made perfect sense.
This was all either of us had ever known.
"That one—did you dodge it by sight, or did you read it beforehand?"
"Read it. Your shoulder moved first."
"…My shoulder?"
"Yeah. Right before the punch comes out, your right shoulder always drops a little. I saw that and pulled out early."
Yoon Arin's expression stiffened in a peculiar way.
"…Nobody ever noticed that."
"Really? It stood out pretty clearly to me."
"…No one's ever told me that before."
She looked down at her right shoulder with complete seriousness. Then she gripped it, flexed it open and shut, and muttered to herself.
"…Gonna have to fix that."
"Don't fix it."
"…Why not?"
"If you fix it, I won't be able to beat you next time."
For a second Yoon Arin froze. Then she huffed out a laugh.
"…You're kind of annoying, you know that?"
"I'll take that as a compliment."
She laughed like she couldn't believe me. Then she went on the offensive herself.
"Fine. You've got openings too. Yesterday your left guard kept dropping."
"Oh, that was on purpose."
"On purpose?"
"Leave the left side open and the other person walks right into it. The second they do—counter. It's bait."
"…Bait?"
Yoon Arin's eyes went round. Then her lips pushed out in a sulky pout.
"…I walked straight into that yesterday."
"I know. That's why you ate the counter."
"…"
She tapped the table without a word, the look of someone who was frustrated and had zero comeback. It was somehow so cute I had to fight back a laugh.
"…Next time I won't fall for it."
"Sure. Next time I'll use different bait."
"…You are seriously—"
Yoon Arin finally broke and let out a short laugh. I laughed with her.
With two cups of long-cold coffee sitting between us, we kept talking like that for a long while.
It wasn't exactly café conversation—but for the two of us, it was the most comfortable kind there was.
"…You're kind of a weird guy."
After going on for who knows how long, Yoon Arin suddenly said it.
"Weird?"
"Yeah. A guy I can actually talk to like this… you're the first."
Then, as if her own words embarrassed her, she hid her face behind her cup again. Her reddened ears peeked out over the rim.
"…Are you hungry?"
She asked it casually. Perfect timing—I was getting peckish myself.
"Want to go eat? Anywhere particular in mind?"
"…I can pick?"
"Yeah. Your choice."
Yoon Arin sank into serious deliberation.
Where should they go? A tiny war broke out inside her head.
…On a day like this, aren't you supposed to go to a nice restaurant? It's a first… date, after all.
Just thinking the word "date" made her ears burn.
Right. The correct answer was a restaurant.
Soft lighting, quiet music, food arranged on pretty plates.
Somewhere like that would feel grown-up, and she'd look cool in front of this guy.
But.
…But… meat.
Her head was screaming restaurant. Her heart kept tilting the other way.
Meat.
Meat sizzling on the grill.
That pure happiness of picking up a piece and putting it in your mouth.
For a fighter who'd spent her whole life on a strict diet, meat she could eat without restraint was something nothing else could replace.
Restaurant. Meat. Restaurant. Meat. Mea—mea—
"…A barbecue place."
The words slipped out of Yoon Arin before she could stop them.
"…Huh?"
"…L-let's go to a barbecue place. I… want meat."
The second she said it she wanted to take it back.
This wasn't the plan. She'd wanted to go somewhere atmospheric, somewhere mature.
But once the honest truth left her mouth, there was no stuffing it back in.
Kang Hyunwoo stared at her blankly for a beat—then huffed out a laugh.
"Alright. Meat it is."
That laugh turned Yoon Arin's face red all over again.
Any hope of looking cool was long gone, but the thought of eating meat still somehow made her steps lighter.
By the time the sun was starting to sink, we arrived.
The place Yoon Arin had chosen was a neighborhood old-school joint, the kind where the grill never stopped sizzling.
The second we sat down, the look in her eyes changed completely.
Gone was the girl who'd been fumbling behind her cup at the café. The hands that opened the menu now moved with battlefield resolve.
"…Samgyeopsal, pork neck, jowl. Three portions of each to start."
"…Three of each?"
"If it's not enough, we'll order more."
She was already in combat mode. I just nodded.
The meat hit the table and the grill heated up. The moment I reached for the tongs, Yoon Arin snatched them first.
"…I'll handle the grilling."
"Uh, sure."
"…This is non-negotiable."
It was a declaration of absolute gravity.
Apparently Yoon Arin had pride on the line when it came to grilling meat too.
The way she laid the meat on the grill was every bit as serious as the way she'd thrown punches in the ring yesterday.
"…Timing the flip is everything. You only flip once or the juices run out."
"Oh, you know your stuff."
"Of course. This is… a kind of technique too."
Yoon Arin stared the meat down with a deadly serious face.
She waited for the exact moment the raw color faded, then flipped it in a single clean motion.
Sizzle—
The beautifully browned underside came into view. No question about it—she'd grilled it perfectly.
"…Here. Try it."
She set the best-cooked piece on my plate, then watched my reaction intently. There was a strange tension in her eyes.
"…How is it?"
"Yeah, it's really good."
I wasn't being polite. It genuinely was. At those words, the corner of Yoon Arin's mouth curled up just a little. She tried to keep a straight face, but the pride leaked through everywhere.
"…Obviously. I grilled it."
The problem came after that.
Every time she gave me one piece of the meat she'd grilled, she ate two or three herself.
She was eating faster than she was cooking. The three portions of each vanished in no time.
"…Another three portions of samgyeopsal over here."
"…Again?"
"…What. Fighters have to eat well."
Yoon Arin was completely unapologetic.
Where all that meat went in that slender body of hers was a genuine mystery. Yesterday's undefeated fighter had turned into a meat-crazed gremlin with stars in her eyes.
We kept going like that for who knows how long.
Before I knew it, only one last piece remained on the grill.
My chopsticks and Yoon Arin's chopsticks—moved toward that single piece at the exact same time.
Clack.
The two sets of chopsticks collided in midair.
"…"
"…"
We both froze, staring at each other's chopsticks. For a split second, Yoon Arin's eyes sharpened exactly the way they had in the ring yesterday.
"…This one's mine."
"Nope. I saw it first."
"…You just ate three pieces over there."
"You ate an entire plate by yourself."
It was a deadlock.
With the last piece of meat between us, we faced off with chopsticks.
Yesterday it had been fists. Today it was chopsticks. The arena had changed, but the competitive fire was exactly the same.
Yoon Arin moved first. She feinted left like she was going for that side, then snagged the meat from the right in a flash.
"…Huh?"
"…Heh. You're too honest."
She popped the meat into her mouth and grinned in pure triumph. She looked so ridiculously happy I couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.
"…You're completely hopeless."
"…What can I say. It's good."
Chewing away, Yoon Arin closed her eyes in bliss.
Yesterday's bloodthirst was nowhere to be found. She was just a girl who looked like she'd won the whole world over a single piece of meat.
We kept eating and talking for a long time after that—not just about fighting, but about ordinary, pointless things too.
"What do you do on your days off?"
"…Days off?"
Yoon Arin tilted her head.
"I don't really have those."
"You don't?"
"I train every day. If I rest… my body gets stiff."
"Wow. You really don't know anything but fighting."
"…And you don't?"
"I'm pretty similar, honestly."
I gave an awkward laugh.
"But I do take breaks sometimes. Sleep in, eat something good."
"…I see."
Yoon Arin thought about that for a moment, then murmured quietly.
"…I think… it'd be nice if I had days off too. With someone… together."
The second the words left her mouth she looked embarrassed and hastily drained her water glass. I pretended not to notice and changed the subject.
"By the way, you said you don't like sweet stuff. You ordered an Americano at the café earlier."
"Yeah. Sweet things aren't really my thing. I like bitter."
"That's surprising. You don't look the type."
"…And what type is that supposed to be."
She shot me a sidelong look. I shrugged.
"Dunno. Just… you look like you'd be into strawberry milk or something."
"…I am not. Into that kind of thing."
Yoon Arin said it flatly, then paused for a beat.
"…But I do like rainy days."
"Rain?"
"Yeah. When it rains… my mind settles a little. I like just sitting still and listening to the rain."
"Didn't see that coming. A fight maniac like you liking something like that."
"…I'm not a fight maniac."
"Says the person who was laughing while bleeding yesterday."
"…That was—"
Yoon Arin ran out of words and pouted. Then she finally laughed, small and quiet. I laughed with her.
Piece by piece, I got to know Yoon Arin.
That she hated sweet things. That she liked rainy days. That she was surprisingly bad with spicy food.
They were tiny things—but learning those tiny things was strangely fun.
By the time we left the restaurant, the distance between us had closed by about a handspan compared to the start.
"…Feels a little disappointing to just say goodbye like this."
The words slipped out of me without thinking. Yoon Arin flinched—then gave a small nod.
"…Then… just one drink."