Drunken Confessions and Our First Kiss
The afternoon had slipped by, the promised time for our first kiss amid drunken truths. I couldn't help but wonder how much Romi's heart must be racing. Meanwhile, I was in the middle of sparring at the gym.
Today's opponent was a fighter with mint-dyed hair. 'Pro record of 3 wins and 0 losses, pushing for main events in one of the rising fight organizations.' Impressive on paper, but when I thought about the state of Korea's combat sports scene, not really.
Whoosh! He threw a light hook from orthodox stance. I watched it all the way. As I ducked to slip the hook, his fist vanished from view. A calf kick instead. I reached to grab and sweep it, but he pulled back immediately.
'Reflexes aren't bad. But...'
He threw another hook. I sighed. 'Pattern's too predictable.'
This time, I charged first. Weaving in to close distance, I snapped a light jab. It smacked his face, and he switched to southpaw for a counter hook. I covered with my left arm and fired a rear-hand straight.
Paang!
"Hmph!"
He whipped his head away to slip it. Staying in southpaw, he peppered jabs, then suddenly shot for a single-leg takedown. I grabbed his head, sprawled to evade, and sidestepped.
'Now!'
Just as he swung a hook to create space, I ducked low and groped for his knee. Thinking takedown, he yanked his leg back and switched stance.
'That's what I was waiting for.'
I popped up and hooked his chin. His head snapped. Eyes glazing over. I followed with another hook.
"Ack!"
He stumbled and collapsed. Knockout.
I sighed and peeled off my gloves. The crowd went wild.
"Holy shit, he beat that guy too?"
"Coach Ji Sang-min, where the hell did you find this monster?"
"Out of this world. Beating LeBlanc Artillery's main event guy."
"Jealous of that talent."
I cleaned up and stepped down from the ring. A familiar coach approached—Ji Sang-min, with his Honam-region features and tall, upright build.
"Damn, kid, cool as ever."
"Coach Sang-min."
"Call me bro Sang-min, like I said."
Ji Sang-min. A domestic prospect who drew high hopes. Went 9-1 and made it to the WFC, but bad conditioning and biased judging led to two straight losses and his release. A tragic figure. Now my personal coach.
"You were even more composed than usual today."
"Yeah?"
He jerked his chin toward the guy still sprawled in the ring. "That dude's specialty is baiting opponents in. You didn't bite once."
"Kinda harsh, but he just wasn't that good."
"Huh? LeBlanc Artillery's the hottest org right now."
I sighed and gave a wry smile, shrugging. It only seemed big because it was Korea. Step over to Japan next door, and they'd be stuck in third-rate orgs forever.
"They're just hyping visibility with shows and fat fight purses. Main event guy's that level."
"Hmm."
"Honestly, how many from there make WFC? Kim Kwon-do at best? And he came from another org."
"Still got that cool edge. Good work, man."
"You too, bro."
I showered in the locker room. No thrill today either. Just the same old feeling of putting down scrubs. Mutual respect? For guys cashing checks way above their league in a third-rate org?
'How do you respect dudes gasping for air after one or two rounds?'
Showered off, I headed home. Crossed streets under the setting sun. No thoughts stirring. Hollow. Lonely.
Got home, went to my room. 'Maybe rest a bit first?'
Knock knock.
Someone at the door. I set down my gym bag and opened it. Romi stood there, fidgeting.
Huh, no way?
"Romi? What about your part-time job?"
"Hmph, whatever. Drink with me tonight."
"Outta nowhere?"
"What outta nowhere? You said spill if you've got worries!"
She shot me a dissatisfied glare. I was surprised. Hooked proper? Faster reaction than expected. Guess shock value works.
Let me poke a bit. "You said no worries before. This another tease? Just go."
"Ugh, damn it. For real, you loser! Getting cocky."
"Fine. Where to?"
No clue on college girl tastes. Fancy vibe spot? Good eats?
Romi pouted and turned. "Whatever, just follow."
"Yes, ma'am."
In her orange tracksuit, we headed out. Dusk had fallen. Walking night streets felt romantic already.
We ended up somewhere unexpected. 'Huh, that street food stall I've passed a few times.'
Went in together. Just two salarymen post-work. No one else.
Romi ordered like a pro. "Uncle, two here. Usual."
"Oh, student. Boyfriend?"
"Oppa, actually? Two bottles of soju, load up the sides."
"You got it!"
We sat. I looked around, impressed. "Old-school spot. You come here?"
"Why not? Can't I?"
"Nah, just... nice vibe."
"Y-yeah? Hmph."
Soju, grilled oysters, and mackerel arrived. The mackerel gleamed with chojang and raw radish.
'Prime season, alright.'
Romi poured silently. Clink into glasses. Glug glug glug.
I chuckled. Took my filled glass. "Cheers!"
"Cheers what? Hmph. Kanpai."
Clink!
Sipped deep. Soju's sharp bite caressed my throat going down. Finally, my heart's picking up.
Watched the fresh oysters grill. "So, what's up?"
"W-well. You won't get mad if I tell? Won't snitch to cops?"
"Promise."
"Tch, fine then."
She hesitated. Meanwhile, I tried the mackerel. Melted in my mouth. 'Damn good. Even with dad’s allowance, pricey stuff.'
As I marveled, Romi sighed. "Truth is, no part-time job."
"Then?"
"You know my high school?"
"Dabang High. Korea's Suzuran, right?"
How could I not? Teachers hopeless, kids all delinquents. College rate under 10%. Heard it's closing this year.
"Knew some from there. Not like I wanted to, but to survive that place, you buddy up with the wild ones."
"Go on."
"Helped 'em with some setups a few times. But the more I did, the guiltier I felt."
"They used you for free?"
She shook her head. Not that, then. She stared emptily at her glass.
"They offered cash. I didn't take it."
"Good call."
"But it's driving me nuts. Can't cut ties."
"That so."
I exhaled low. If they ruled local thugs, yeah. Korea had 'em too, subtle—like Japan's Hanegure. 'Half-moons, basically. In provinces, Southeast Asian mixes flex. Link to celebs or chaebol gangsters, cops can't touch.' Social issue all around.
Another round. Felt the soju bite, watched her eyes moisten.
"Seriously losing it. Wanna quit, but they won't listen."
"Cut 'em off now. They left their brains in mom's womb, but you're grown."
She stared, surprised. Eyes darted anxiously, refilled her glass. Gulped with eyes squeezed shut.
'She's spiraling.'
That pace, she'll black out quick. She inhaled, shaking her head. "But how? They filmed me seducing guys, blackmail."
"How many total?"
"Huh? Six. More before, but most cut contact saying they got jobs."
I nodded slowly. But one thing bugged me. "They got backing?"
"Leader's Kang Ji-hoon. Uncle's a gangster."
"Then basically nothing. Few degrees removed even if."
"Please help. Lame, I know. No idea how. Hate seeing normal folks suffer more!"
She bowed her head, shoulders shaking. A tear splashed on the blue plastic table. Reflected, she looked so lonely. At least she had tears left. Lucky her.
'Haven't cried since Mom left.'
I reached, clasped her hand. Shared warmth. She looked up; I smiled.
"I'll help."
"R-really? But how."
"Got this bro Sang-min coaching me at the gym? He always says..."
Casually refilled glasses. Peeled a finished oyster, fed her. She tilted head, surprised, but ate.
"Once you learn martial arts, live righteously. But the world's no saint? Take it head-on!"
"What?"
"Gimme names, looks, hangouts."
Trash needs cleaning. Rely on law? Cops? If that worked, no AI judges griping.
Only fix for scum: beat restraint into 'em.
"W-wait!"
She caught on, eyes wide. I shook head.
"Hey, hey. Oppa, they're scary. Ji-hoon hits girls too!"
"I hit girls too."
"Huh?"
"Your crew got girls?"
"Yeah."
"Tip 'em off. Bail or get stomped too."
Shocked myself. Spouting threats casual. Worn-down souls only.
Stroked her hair. "Ow, sudden."
"Those pests won't touch you. Smile now."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Prettiest when you do."
I grinned. She stared, eyes widening. Then natural smile.
"Got it. Hehe."
"Drink up! Let's go!"
We feasted free. Like shedding world's weight. Her gaze warmed tons.
Chatted nonstop.
"Ah, spilling feels better."
"Told ya, dummy."
"You loser!"
"Lean anytime it sucks. Got me. No crime, live bold!"
"Still sorry."
"Why? You're regretting real this time. Wanna improve but can't? Lean. I allow."
"Uh, yeah."
Knowing a rest spot matters. Lost mine young, so I know.
That preciousness.
Empty bottles piled.
"Ugh, know what? Liked you first sight. Fr real."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Fr real! Damn."
"Got it, ease up."
"Uegh."
Thud! Romi faceplanted on table. Out cold.
"Romi? Romi!"
Dead to world. Figures, pounding like that.
Propped her, paid. Sighed, dragged home.
'Lighter than expected.'
As I marveled, zombie-like she squirmed against me. Pale hand cupped my cheek. Looked down—her face neared.
"Mwah♡"
"Mm? Mmph."
"Mmm, love you."
Started licking my tongue sticky. Then hers invaded. World froze.
Drunk Romi kissed me.
'F-first kiss?!'
Hard instantly. Body's honest. Tongues tangled wet.
She passed out again.
'Punishment for tempting me, stealing first kiss—sweet revenge.'
Grinned, propped her. Home in sight.