Holding Hands to the Supermarket
We arrived at the neighborhood big-box mart without ever letting go of each other's hands. Even holding hands, it still took us over fifteen minutes on foot. At first, Moonbyeol had trailed half a step behind, hesitant and awkward, but before long she'd bounced back to her usual bubbly self.
For Moonbyeol, a supermarket basically meant stocking up on frozen foods and snacks in bulk. The fresh produce section might as well have been her first time—she gawked around like some fresh-off-the-farm country bumpkin.
"Whoa... this place is huge," I said, squeezing her hand firmly.
"Next time Mom tells you to do the shopping, pick stuff out from here. No more just grabbing frozen crap every time."
"...But frozen stuff tastes good."
"Eat like that and you'll die young. If you really want it that bad, join the army and gorge yourself there."
I stood in front of a shopping cart and asked, "Got a 100-won coin?"
"Nope. Didn't even bring my wallet."
"Damn. Isn't there a change machine around?"
As I pondered that, someone called out to us. "Excuse me..."
She looked mid-twenties, shoulder bag slung over one arm and her cart already empty—she'd clearly checked out. Hesitating a bit, she nudged the cart toward me. "Here. You can use this one..."
"Ah, thanks." I gave her a light smile and a quick bow.
Something in my expression must've decided her, because she pulled out her phone from her pocket and held it out to me. Or tried to.
"Um, by any chance, your number...!"
Whoosh—Moonbyeol cut right between us. She shoved the woman's phone back and forced a twisted smile. "Nah, we're good. Found a coin after all."
With that, she yanked my hand. "Let's go, oppa."
"Uh, yeah."
"Ah..."
The woman smacked her lips in disappointment but didn't push it, just watching my back as we walked away.
Once we were a safe distance, Moonbyeol swallowed hard. "Hah, what a weirdo. There's a girl right next to you, and she pulls that crap?"
"We kinda look alike. Probably thought we were siblings."
That set her off. "That's not the point—it's a matter of pride between girls! We were holding hands and everything... holding... hands..."
She'd been gearing up for a full rant, but staring at our still-clasped hands, she stammered to a halt. Finally, she let out a huge sigh and clamped her mouth shut. "Whatever."
"'Whatever' my ass."
"Shut up. I don't wanna talk. Here, 100-won coin."
She handed it over, and I slotted it into the cart handle, pulling it free with one hand while flashing a wry grin. "Gotta let go now, right?"
I toyed with our joined hands.
"Ah. Uh. Yeah..."
Moonbyeol slowly released me. Logically, yeah, you need both hands to push a cart. But knowing that and accepting it were two different beasts.
After letting go, she sighed wistfully and glanced at the cart. We'd held on for nearly twenty minutes straight, so her palm was slick with sweat. But it didn't gross me out at all. Hell, if no one was watching, I'd have sniffed it myself.
I didn't bother wiping mine off either—just grabbed the cart as-is. She seemed relieved I wasn't disgusted.
Cautiously, she raised her arm and laid her palm over the handle... right on top of my hand gripping it. Not fully overlapping—that'd be too obvious—so her thumb and index finger clutched the bar while her other three fingers and part of her palm rested lightly on my skin.
I shot her a surprised look. What the hell?
"Ahem." Suddenly self-conscious, she threw in an unnecessary excuse. "Pushing alone would be tough!"
"True. It is tough. You helping out?"
"What, you think I'd grab it just to mess with you?"
I nodded with a grin. "Aw, good girl. You've really grown up."
I gave her ass a couple light pats. Even gentle, she yelped and jumped like I'd electrocuted her. "Eek! That hurts!"
"Oh, right. It's bruised."
I chuckled awkwardly and pulled my hand back. Rubbing her sore butt, Moonbyeol pouted with a strange expression. "Should've just toughed it out," she muttered so softly I barely caught it.
She fell into step beside me, matching my pace as we pushed the cart together toward the onions piled high in their bins.
I picked up a red net bag with a few onions inside. "Onions are sweetest from late spring to early summer. They're decent year-round, but less bitter then. Bit early now, though."
I squeezed them as I explained. "Big marts like this? They're all pretty much the same. Can't check every single one, so first rule is dodging the duds."
Dry skins, firm feel, no sprouts, even color. Drawing from my househusband experience and internet wisdom, I rattled off tips. After rummaging, I grabbed one bag. "This one's good for onions."
Moonbyeol pretended to listen casually, but inside, she was mortified. She always just ate whatever I cooked three times a day, never caring how much effort went into each meal or what went into picking the menu. She'd even whine about no meat after a full spread or demand delivery on a whim. I'd cave, eating alone sometimes.
Even picking onions took this much care. Imagining the work for a full table made her want to die of guilt.
Oblivious, I got even more excited, hopping shelves and loading the cart with veggies and fruits.
I paused, pointing at some greens on the wall display. "See this? Fat hen—you've been bitching about it lately. It's in season now. Tastes like nothing, but it's good for you. Easiest way: blanch and dip in soy-vinegar sauce."
I kept grinning like an idiot. What was so fun?
Chewing her lip, Moonbyeol took a deep breath and called out. "Oppa."
"Yeah? What? Hate fat hen now? Fair, I've grabbed too many veggies."
"No. It's not that. Oppa... you like grocery shopping that much?"
Caught off-guard, I blinked. Not a tough question. "Nah? Honestly, no big feelings—mostly a pain."
"But you look so hyped..."
I snorted. She had it all wrong. "Pfft. You think I'd wander alone giggling like a maniac?"
I snagged a packaged burdock root and poked her nape with it. "'Cause I'm with you, dummy."
"......Really?"
"You never believe me on the sly stuff."
"You tricked me a lot as a kid."
"...Me?"
I rolled my eyes side to side, thinking. Yeah, I'd teased her back then—Santa's real, Earth is flat, dinosaurs still roam the kids' park. But still... really?
"You used to say I was your favorite."
"Oh."
Not that, then. Half-relieved, half-amused, I smirked. "Why think you're not now?"
"Ahyeon unnie's around, and you hook up with whoever... No way you'd say I'm number one without lying."
"Come on. How do you even compare? Family and friends."
I stated it flat-out. "Moonbyeol, you're my number one."
Sure, only barely with the family boost, but I skipped that part. Love and affection aren't the same anyway.
"Then..."
She fidgeted with her lips, then asked carefully. "If you marry Ahyeon unnie, she'd be family too. Then who'd be first?"
"Uh... well..."
She nailed me. I turned away, pretending not to hear.
"Knew it!"
"Hey, that's pro-level hard mode! We haven't even married yet."
"Whatever."
That wasn't her real question. Family means I'm always number one. So... if I wasn't family, your little sister anymore... would I drop priority?
She couldn't voice it, just chased after me as I bolted with the cart, that nagging doubt lingering.
"Hey, wait up!"
At least as her immature little sis, she was still top dog. That had to be enough.
For now...
*
The walk back was way tougher than going. We hadn't bought light, and I offered to split the load, but Moonbyeol stubbornly insisted on carrying it all herself.
She shouldered open the front door, dumped the bags like trash, and collapsed onto the sofa. "Ughhh... I'm dying..."
"Was gonna get delivery, but the wait was nuts."
I soothed her groaning with a laugh. End result? Yeah, I'd gotten off easy thanks to her.
"Shoulder's gonna pop off."
"Yep. Good job today, Moonbyeol."
Seizing the opening, she tested the waters. This was why she'd muscled all the bags—bait for this.
"So, since I worked hard today..."
She tried to sound casual, but her voice quivered. "Rub my shoulders?"
I sorted ingredients into the fridge. "Sure. Finish unpacking these, then yeah."
"......!"
Crash! Sprawled comfy on the sofa, phone in hand, Moonbyeol tumbled right off.
"...For real?"
She'd asked herself but blinked in disbelief.
I nodded again, baffled. "What, you want fake?"
First thing, she snatched her top and sniffed it. Walk had worked up a sweat smell...
"M-Me! I'll shower quick!"
She bolted to the bathroom.