Family Meal (3)
The moment I stepped inside, I spotted my father standing awkwardly by the living room sofa. He'd been reading the newspaper and must have scrambled up when he heard Ahn Seong-hyeon's name.
I went straight over and gave him a warm hug.
"How have you been? It's been way too long since I last visited."
Believe it or not, I'm actually the doting son at home.
My father hugged me back easily, like second nature. He gave my back a gentle pat and spoke with a hint of worry.
"Looks like you've lost a lot of weight."
"Yeah? So, have I gotten more handsome?"
"Our son was always handsome to begin with."
"Well, genetics don't lie. I take after you, Dad."
Anyone listening would have been shocked. For father-son conversation, this was borderline too affectionate.
And indeed, Ahn Seong-hyeon, watching from behind, looked stunned. Don't look at me like that; it's embarrassing.
Well, it's not like Dad and I were always this way. When I was little, I was more the type to run around outside than stay home, and my father had almost no facial expressions and even fewer words — a truly taciturn man.
Ironically, our father-son relationship got better after I shut myself in at home.
My father, Kang Mu-hyuk, was, as Korean fathers often are, a man terribly clumsy with expressing his emotions.
Even when it came to caring for his wife and child.
He was the type who believed that grinding his body down to earn money was far better than offering a warm, affectionate word.
But my father, who had been obsessively focused on work, changed because of me. He switched jobs to spend more time with the family, pushed for a move, and started expressing himself more directly.
At first, the shift was awkward, but... I do have a conscience. I'd been an unfilial son who even refused to go to school — shouldn't I at least try to ease my parents' worries? So, I poured out every ounce of charm I could muster, whether I actually had any or not, and acted all affectionate.
Thanks to that, showing affection to my mother and father now feels natural and genuine.
...But having someone witness this side of me is mortifying. And the fact that the someone is Ahn Seong-hyeon doesn't sit right with me either. He's the guy who knows exactly what I was like as a kid, after all.
"Ahem! Hey, say hello, dumbass."
I cleared my throat for no reason and shoved Ahn Seong-hyeon forward. With an awkward expression, he greeted my father.
"Ah, hello, sir. I'm Seong-hyeon."
"...It's been a long time."
My father nodded with a stoic expression and a low voice. But I could tell he was deeply surprised. Sure, my dad barely shows any change in his face, but by his standards, this was him being absolutely shocked.
But there was no way Ahn Seong-hyeon could know that. From his perspective, it probably looked like my father was glaring daggers at him.
And sure enough, Ahn Seong-hyeon was sending me signals begging for help. Come to think of it, this guy was always more terrified of my dad than his own.
I snickered inwardly and left him to stew. Dumbass, my dad's not the same as he used to be.
True enough, my father put his glasses back on and continued talking first.
"You've grown so much I barely recognized you. I remember you and Cheol-jin both being on the smaller side."
"Haha... it's been a long time. I've gotten a lot taller, haven't I?"
"No, not your height — your build. Height-wise, Seung-hoon and his wife were both tall, so that's to be expected."
"Ah, I've been working out a bit."
'Seung-hoon' is Ahn Seong-hyeon's father's name. My dad is two years older, for the record.
'When we were little, I used to brag about how my dad was older.'
A sudden old memory made me chuckle. Back then, having an older dad somehow felt like winning.
While Ahn Seong-hyeon floundered and exchanged a few more words with my father.
"All done! Everyone, come and sit down now~!"
My mother's signature spread was complete.
*
We took our seats at the table.
My mother delivered the classic line.
"Ho ho, there's not much, but eat plenty."
'Not much' but eat plenty. Where on earth did this bizarre phrase come from?
"Whoa, you made all this yourself? The table's going to collapse under all this."
Ahn Seong-hyeon let out a genuine exclamation of admiration.
I nodded along with him. The spread was so spectacular I half-wondered if the table legs might actually break. My mother had truly pulled out all the stops for her son's rare visit home.
My father picked up his spoon and took the first bite.
We quickly grabbed our own spoons too. I was already hungry, and with a feast like this laid out before me, my mouth was watering. My mother gestured for us to dig in.
"Thank you for the meal, Mom."
"Thank you for the food!"
Today's spread was mostly Western-style.
First, a bite of aglio e olio pasta. Next, I sliced some steak and ate it, then went back for more pasta, this time topped with gambas.
"Khh."
A groan of appreciation escaped my lips. This was my mother's cooking, all right.
"Is it good, son?"
"What's there to say? The thing I miss most about living on my own is not getting to eat your cooking, Mom."
"Oh, you. Then come home more often."
"It's been the start of the semester, so I've been busy. I'll come by more often from now on."
She must have felt quite hurt, because she kept saying the same thing. I should make a point to visit at least once a month.
"Seong-hyeon, is the food to your liking?"
"Gulp. It's seriously delicious. Your cooking was amazing back in the day too, ma'am, but... I think you've gotten even better."
"Ho ho. Let me know if you want more."
My mother loves cooking, and she loves even more feeding someone delicious food. She smiled with satisfaction as we inhaled the dishes like we were possessed.
We could have caught up on all the piled-up stories, but all of us, without exception, quietly focused on eating.
"Oof, I'm stuffed......."
And so we finished the meal.
"Have some tea and fruit."
My mother brought out black tea and various kinds of fruit. She's really trying to fatten me up before sending me back, since I dropped by after so long.
"Seong-hyeon, how are your parents doing?"
"Huh? Ah, they're doing well. They're still living in the same old place."
"I see. I should get in touch with them; it's been so long."
"My mother would be happy to hear that."
A few more questions were directed at Ahn Seong-hyeon. Would they reach out after we left? It felt like a connection that had been severed was being rekindled.
Then the questions flew my way.
"Son, how's school life these days?"
"It's just... going well. I've made a lot of friends, and my grades seem decent."
"Are you sure you're eating properly? You've lost so much weight. Your face is half its size."
My mother looked at me with worry as she spoke, but... it was a little embarrassing. Honestly, my face hasn't shrunk that much. If anything, I still had some meat on me.
I deliberately raised my arm to show her as I spoke.
"I'm eating well. The weight I lost is from working out. See this?"
I flexed my bicep, and a pretty solid muscle bulged up. Before, it had just been covered in flab and jiggled around, so this was a huge improvement.
I grinned, turned to my father, and said jokingly.
"I might even be stronger than you now, Dad."
"...Hm?"
My father, who had been eating fruit, raised one eyebrow slightly and looked at me. Then, a moment later, he let out a small chuckle.
...What the hell? That somehow rubbed me the wrong way. It felt like he was seriously looking down on me.
I got inexplicably prickly and said.
"No, I'm serious! I'm getting PT, and I even got asked to compete. They said I have talent."
"Sure, I'm sure you do."
My father nodded with an indifferent face. An attitude that said he didn't care at all. He even seemed a little amused. Okay, now that pissed me off a bit.
"...Dad, wanna arm wrestle?"
"Goodness! How old is your father! He's over fifty, son."
My mother smacked my arm lightly to stop me.
But that actually seemed to get under my father's skin. My father, who had been eating fruit even through my provocation, let out a sharp "Keum!" and cleared his throat loudly before speaking.
"Let's do it over there."
My father pointed to a low table.
I nodded and headed over.
"Oh my, you're really going to do it? Honey, you'll hurt yourself. What if you get injured?"
"Sir, Cheol-jin is probably really strong......."
My mother and Ahn Seong-hyeon worried about my father.
Seeing that, I smirked and provoked him further.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this? I'm worried you might get hurt, Dad......."
"......."
Wordlessly, my father placed his arm on the table. His face remained expressionless, but I could tell he'd taken the bait. A tiny crease had appeared between his brows.
I followed suit, planting my arm and getting into position. We used our left hands to brace so our elbows wouldn't wobble and clasped our right hands together.
An arm-wrestling match had suddenly broken out.
I felt a little tense. That was because I felt considerable strength in his grip. Of course, I didn't think I'd lose. Seora noona had said so. That I was born with it.
Seong-hyeon acted as the referee.
"Alright, take all the tension out of your hands. No wrist-bending. Ready~ Go!"
Pat!
I'd planned to pin him in one go.
'Oh, my dad's stronger than I thought?'
He didn't go down.
Inwardly impressed, I applied more force. Up until this point, I still hadn't even entertained the idea of losing.
"Hrrrnggh!"
Even straining with all my might, my father didn't budge.
For a while, a tense stalemate of strength ensued.......
"Hm. May I flip now?"
"Excuse me?"
...It wasn't tense at all.
"Hmph!"
My father let out a small kihap and exerted force.
Ttuk.
My arm was effortlessly pinned. There was no resisting or holding out. It just went down smoothly.
"...Excuse me?"
This was ridiculous. What the hell was this?
As I stood there with a dumbfounded expression, my mother made a fuss.
"Oh my, oh my! How did he win? You've still got it, haven't you, honey?"
"Son, you need to work out a little more."
"...L-left, let's try left hand."
A rematch with the other hand!
Tuk.
I lost instantly.
"No way......."
I wanted to make some kind of excuse, but the words wouldn't come. How was this the strength of a man in his fifties?
As I stood there dumbfounded again, this time Ahn Seong-hyeon patted my shoulder and said.
"Hey, Cheol-jin, want to work out with me? Not hypertrophy, but strength training — I think that'd be good for you."
"...Hey, you try. It's not that I'm weak; it's that my dad is insanely strong."
"Nah, still, I've got years of working out under my belt."
This guy, you've got to be kidding me? I'm telling you, it's not that I'm weak.
Just then, my father spoke up as if to defend me.
"While we're at it, let's have Seong-hyeon try too."
"Huh? For real? Sir, I've been... never mind, I'll make sure you don't get hurt."
Wow, this guy is absolutely assuming he's going to win. You get taken down a peg too.
And so the arm-wrestling match began.
Tuk.
As expected, the victor was my father.
"Seong-hyeon, you need to work out a little more too."
"No way......."
"See, dumbass! I told you, my dad is just that strong?!"
I cut off the guy as he tried to make excuses and yelled. See? It's not that I'm weak, right? Inwardly, I felt a relief that Ahn Seong-hyeon had lost too.
"Strength training? Years of working out? Dumbass, I haven't even been working out a year and you... ugh."
I said it deliberately to rile him up.
"...Kang Cheol-jin, you're on."
He was seriously pissed.
I flinched inwardly but didn't back down and raised my arm. As me and Ahn Seong-hyeon clasped hands, my parents watched with fascinated faces. My father acted as referee.
"Release tension, ready. Start."
"Urrraaat!"
"Hrrrnnngghh!"
A pride-fueled showdown!
"Uwaaaah!"
"Kkeuuugh!"
Unlike when I faced my father, a truly fierce battle erupted this time. Bewilderment spread across Ahn Seong-hyeon's face. Meanwhile, I smiled, thinking this was more manageable than I'd expected. Come to think of it, when we were kids, I'd beaten him in arm wrestling — and every other sport, for that matter.
In the end, the winner was.
Tuk.
"Bam! Ahn Seong-hyeon, you dumbass, I won!"
A look of complete emptiness rose on Ahn Seong-hyeon's face. Muhaha!
*
Come to think of it, it made sense.
Who did I inherit this body from, the one Seora noona praised so much? I inherited it directly from my father.
My father, Kang Mu-hyuk.
He was 185 cm tall and weighed over 90 kg.
A real man, bigger in both height and build than me.
'Whew, still, I'm glad I at least beat Ahn Seong-hyeon.'
Thanks to that, my shattered pride in front of my father was restored somewhat.
On the other hand, Ahn Seong-hyeon had fallen into despair.
"Everything I've done up until now......."
His face was full of emptiness. At this point, I almost felt sorry for winning. My father apparently felt the same, glancing at Ahn Seong-hyeon with an awkward expression.
Just then, my mother got up and went into a room.
I wondered if she was excusing herself from the mood.
"Kids, want to take a look at this?"
My mother came out holding some kind of picture frame. It was covered in quite a bit of dust. My eyes went wide when I saw it.
"Huh? Don't tell me this is......."
"Ho ho, it's your father. Handsome, isn't he?"
The person in the frame was my father in his younger days.
But his attire was unusual.
Even putting aside the buzz cut.
He was completely stripped down except for a pair of posing trunks.
Razor-sharp muscle definition, a medal around his neck. And a trophy in his hand.
I turned to my father with surprised eyes.
"You used to work out?"
"Mm. A little, back in the day......."
My father, on rare occasion, looked embarrassed.
On the other hand, my mother giggled and slapped my father's shoulder.
"A little, my foot. Fitness? You went to that competition and won it."
"Even if I won, it was just an amateur competition."
"Oh, pretending it's nothing. When you were preparing for that, you'd only pack chicken breast when we went on dates. Do you know how shocked I was when you walked out of a movie midway through to eat chicken breast?"
"Ahem."
My father cleared his throat.
It was a story I'd never heard before in my life, so I glanced back and forth between the photo and my father with fascinated eyes.
'So there was a reason he was so strong.'
It wasn't just natural talent — he'd trained properly. To the point of winning a competition, even. Amateur competition or not, the muscles visible in that frame were no joke.
Ahn Seong-hyeon seemed to recover a little after seeing that too.
"Whoa, that's insane. Sir, you must've trained insanely hard."
"I just went at it recklessly, that's all. Back then, it wasn't as systematic as it is now. You two will be able to do even better."
My father was so embarrassed he'd started rambling, which was rare for him.
I kept staring at the frame in admiration.
'Fucking cool.'
Even though the picture quality wasn't great, the sharply defined muscles were striking. His broad shoulders and chest, and his abs were no joke either. My father had an eight-pack, not a six-pack. The definition in his thighs was insane too.
That was when I was busy being impressed.
Ahn Seong-hyeon cleared his throat with a "hem hem," then suddenly pulled out his phone.
"Want me to show mine too?"
"Huh? You competed too?"
"No, not a competition, I did a body profile shoot last year."
With that, he showed us a few photos on his phone.
"Whoa, what is this?"
"Hmm? Do they do body profiles like this these days?"
Before we knew it, my father was also looking at the photos and marveling.
With good reason, too — it wasn't an ordinary body profile.
In the photo, Ahn Seong-hyeon was stripped down and engulfed in flames.
A straw hat.
A cross tattooed on his back.
A rosary-like necklace around his neck.
It was a familiar character.
Ahn Seong-hyeon had cosplayed A○e from One P○ece and even used special effects to shoot his body profile.
'Fucking cool.'
It pissed me off, but I had no choice but to admit it.
This had a kind of coolness that stimulated the otaku sensibility.
'Ah, shit, and I already told noona I wouldn't do the competition.'
Seeing my father's old photos was making my resolve waver. Should I tell her I'll do it after all? Or should I go for a cosplay body profile like this bastard Seong-hyeon?