War and Pork Belly

"Next time, let's go wherever you want. I'll follow without a word."

He dropped that bombshell and then casually slurped up the ice from his remaining Americano like nothing had happened. But my brain had already gone into full Level 1 emergency mode, sirens blaring.

'N-next time? Wherever I want? That's a date invite, right?!'

My clasped hands under the table were suddenly slick with sweat. 'No way... does he like me too? Was he really seeing me as a girl?! Is that why he used Gukjeon as an excuse to lock in the next promise?'

At that thought, my clown of a face threatened to split into a massive grin. I bit my lip hard to force a straight expression. But cold reason soon smacked me upside the head.

—Snap out of it, Kang Ha-ri. You were just the creepy girl secretly tailing a guy!

I wasn't escorting him or anything—I got caught red-handed stalking him from behind. Lucky for me he's so oblivious, or I'd have no defense if he called me a stalker. And now he's talking dates?

Okay, objectively speaking. Given Han Do-hyun's usual detached personality, this was 99% just a dry, practical give-and-take: 'Payback for today.' Not affection.

But...

'Reasons don't matter! I've got a legit solo weekend outing locked in!'

My heart was already pounding like mad. When should we schedule it? This weekend? Nah, too eager—next weekend? What do we do? Movies? No, wait—what the hell do I even wear?!

My closet's just Seong-eun High uniforms, training sweats, and sweat-wicking tees! Should I panic-order some frilly dress or skirt from an online shop right now?!

My brain was hosting a solo fashion show for the hundredth time when—

"Whoa, time's up already."

Do-hyun checked his smartphone and smoothly stood. He carefully tucked the precious Elden Souls Limited Edition box—perched like royalty on the sofa beside him—under his arm and looked down at me.

"Hey, Kang Ha-ri." "D-dress... not that, why?" "What're you on about?"

Do-hyun furrowed his brow slightly, then tossed out flatly in his usual indifferent tone:

"It's late—let's grab dinner before you go."

"Huh? Dinner? With me? Y-yeah! Let's eat!"

Caught off guard by the dinner invite, I barely swallowed my bitten tongue and nodded vigorously. Cafe then dinner? That's textbook date course material!

Fancy pasta spot with mood lighting? Or a clean, quiet Japanese place? Chest swelling with excitement, I trailed after his broad back as he exited the cafe. I fought hard to keep my lips from curling up.

And twenty minutes later.

"Uh... Do-hyun, here?" "Yeah. My favorite regular spot."

Forget quiet restaurants. He stopped in front of a rundown market-edge joint, its faded sign crudely scrawled in red:

"Auntie! Two pork bellies... whoa..." It was peak dinner hour, the place packed with rough female laborers in sweat-soaked work clothes and cabbies.

****

"Auntie! More soju here!" "Aigoo, where's the rice?!"

The door swung open to a blast of pork grease and bellowing shouts. I instinctively scanned the whole dining area the second I stepped in.

Stew pots boiling over on the burners, Table 7 drumming chopsticks for soju glasses. Unbused pots and rice bowls piled mountain-high, blocking all paths. No sign of the server who should be running the floor.

'Wow. This is a lost cause.'

I locked eyes with the auntie leaping between kitchen and floor in full panic.

"Aigoo, Do-hyun! Perfect timing! Evening server bailed suddenly—I'm dying here!" "Haa..."

I rubbed my forehead with a deep sigh. Bail and eat elsewhere? I pondered for a second, then shook my head. This place's pork belly nails cost-performance and taste—my soul food. Plus, I couldn't abandon the auntie who'd always hook me up with heaping rice and two fried eggs to this hellfire.

Above all, my occupational disease kicked in—I couldn't ignore a tables-turned pigsty like that.

I approached Kang Ha-ri, frozen stiff beside me, and gently handed her the precious Elden Souls Limited Edition package.

"Hey, Kang Ha-ri. Hold this super carefully—no scratches. I'll clear that corner table; have a seat."

"Huh? Hey, where you going all sudden?"

Ha-ri awkwardly clutched the big box and yelled in confusion, but I had no time to reply.

I slung the red apron from the wall around my neck and cinched the ties tight—service mode igniting from my core. Voice shifting, I headed straight for the kitchen entrance.

"Auntie, turn down the burner gas first! Then focus on cooking inside. I'll handle the floor!" "Yes! Saved! Thanks!"

Alright, game on. This was a strategy sim crossed with a defense game—no wasted steps, batting down orders while clearing tables in an ultimate brain-body challenge. I targeted Table 5's empty dishes blocking the path first. Big ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stew pot at the base, stacking rice bowls and side plates Tetris-style for perfect balance.

"Coming through, excuse us! Table 7, soju and glasses out. Apron's by the water cooler—self-serve, please!"

Gliding through the burly aunties with fluid steps, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I projected high-toned, flawless courtesy. Anticipating raised hands, I swapped water pitchers and wiped tables to a shine.

Each lap with my tray, the chaotic restaurant's gears meshed into perfect efficiency.

"Auntie! Table 2 canceled their last rice—rerouting to Table 9!" "Got it! Would've been disaster without you, Do-hyun!"

Thirty minutes to conquer the floor. Peace finally settled the warzone, and I wiped sweat from my brow with my uniform shirt cuff, catching my breath.

"Haa, you can handle it solo now."

Tables need to be spotless for the food to shine. Nodding in satisfaction, I grabbed two iced water cups and wet wipes, heading to Ha-ri's corner table.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Kang Ha-ri."

"....."

I plopped down opposite, tossing the apron aside—but Ha-ri said nothing. She clutched the limited edition box like a lifeline, mouth agape like she'd seen a ghost. Her pupils quaking like mad.

"What? Wipe your hands quick. Ordered two pork bellies with auntie earlier."

"Y-you... what was that just now...?"

Ha-ri stammered, pointing between me and the apron.

"Oh, regular spot—tight with auntie, help out sometimes."

"No, not that... serving, like...?"

Explains her fidgeting earlier—overwhelmed by the hectic grill house vibe. A supposed jock scared of a dive like this? Greenhouse flower after all?

I chuckled and slid her water cup over.

"Don't freak. Aunties just loud—good people. And auntie's comping our table today, so eat easy."

Nice. Thirty minutes' hustle for primo free pork belly? Massive W.

****

"Aigoo, our Do-hyun! Worked your butt off today!"

Moments later, auntie's booming voice arrived with her tray—two massive mountains descending. One glistening pork belly peak, the other a fortress of packed rice. Even two service fried eggs per person.

"Whoa, auntie—meat portion's insane today? Eggs too."

"Psh, you ran the floor—this is minimum! Need more? Extra rice incoming."

I marveled at the pork belly's sheen and snatched my chopsticks. Stellar set for thirty minutes' labor.

"But Do-hyun bringing a friend? What's up?"

Auntie wiped her hands on her apron, glancing at rigidly seated Ha-ri opposite. Then her eyes bulged, fuss starting.

"Oh my, what a tall, sturdy girl! Look at those shoulders. Fine specimen! Perfect to guard our pretty Do-hyun. Girlfriend?"

"Pffft—cough, hack! Hack!"

Ha-ri, mid-sip, choked dramatically. Face redder than the sauce, tears welling as she flailed wildly. Spectacle.

"G-girlfriend?! N-no way...! W-well, not absolutely no...! I mean...!"

"Aww, so shy~ Our Do-hyun looks delicate but he's prime ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stuff. Survivor, hard worker. You're lucky, girl~"

"Y-yeah... lu-lucky..."

Ha-ri nodded like a glitching robot, sneaking peeks at me. Face about to explode—dying to hide or overwhelmed by praise?

Reeling from auntie's joke barrage. I let out a short pfh laugh and smoothed it over.

"Auntie, we're not like that. Classmates—she bodied for me today, so I'm treating."

"Aww, bashful~ Got it! Eat up, you two!"

Auntie vanished into the kitchen with a knowing smile. I tsked at Ha-ri's unflushing red face.

"Auntie's always like that—big personality. Don't take it heart. Eat quick, gets gross cold."

I shrugged it off, piling pork belly and fried ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠egg atop my rice heap and shoving it in.

Sweet-salty pork bliss mixing with runny yolk's savoriness—post-labor meals are world's best.

"....."

But glancing up mid-bite, Ha-ri stared blankly chopsticks in hand, ignoring her food. Her pupils looked dilated under the lights.

"Why not eating? Not into grill houses? Smoothie kill your appetite?"

"Huh? N-no! I eat fine! Love pork belly!"

I narrowed my eyes; she jolted, finally shoveling rice frantically. Still sneaking glances my way between bites.

I wiped sauce splatters with wet wipes, thinking:

'Does she eat through her nose or mouth? Total space case. Big body, but pure kid.' Kids these days don't get adults... Gotta part-time early, build social skills, right?

"Slow down. You'll choke."

"Y-yeah. You too."

Cheeks bulging, face oddly flushed, she nodded. I inwardly patted myself on the back for babysitting this loose-screw all day, polishing off every last pork belly scrap.

Thus ended our cost-effective, perfect grill house dinner. So it went.