Ryu-yeong. It's a Contest
Winter break arrived. Fortunately, unlike last year's winter vacation, it wasn't lonely or dull.
For one thing, we didn't go to Ryu-yeong's resort this time. She had invited us, but I felt a little guilty about imposing every single break. More than that, Seol-hee had been training so hard since the sports festival that she'd once nosebled herself into unconsciousness — if we went to the resort and sparred even once a day, the Seol-hee of right now would almost certainly get seriously hurt.
Father and I tried to rein her in, urging her to take things slow and easy. Mother, though, just ruffled Seol-hee's hair roughly and dismissed our concerns with a breezy, "A girl can spill a little blood now and then."
Apparently Mother wasn't fond of Seol-hee's easygoing, leisurely temperament. The moment break began, she loaded Seol-hee into the car every single day and drove her straight to the Erosion Control Center. Seol-hwa, left behind with me in the living room, cackled with delight at having me all to herself in front of the TV — but even while I played with her, I couldn't help worrying about Seol-hee.
Mother had stroked my hair and told me, "This is a girls' matter," so I couldn't very well argue further.
I started helping Father prepare dinner to match the time Mother and Seol-hee would come home. Seol-hwa's appetite had been steadily growing, but after the sports festival Seol-hee's had become truly monstrous — we practically had to put out two or three extra rounds of side dishes. I carefully asked Father whether the grocery bill was all right. He gave me that same gentle smile as always and said that even if it meant cutting Mother's allowance, he would never let his children go hungry.
So Mother had been living on an allowance all this time.
A few weeks into winter break, the first snow began to fall. I took Seol-hwa and Father by the hand and headed for the empty lot, ready to finally use the bear-shaped snow mold we hadn't gotten to try last year.
Last time, Ryu-yeong had been too busy fighting five other girls for us to use it. Today, luckily, there were only a few other girls excited about the first snow.
Seol-hwa spotted a few of them, let go of my hand, and bounced over with a bright laugh, hopping and giggling. They seemed to be friends from the same daycare. I smiled quietly and, careful not to interrupt her play, gathered snow from a corner with the mold and started shaping a bear.
At first it had just been something I'd eyed for its intricate design and surprisingly cheap price. Now that Father had bought it and I was actually using it, it turned out to be more fun than I'd expected.
"Unnie!! Unnie!! These are my friends!!!"
At Seol-hwa's call I turned my head. Three girls about her age had trotted after her and were staring at me. I gave a small smile and waved my mittened hand, and the children grabbed one another's hands and squealed with excitement.
I had no idea what Seol-hwa had been telling them about me to get that reaction, but at least it didn't seem like anything bad, so I let it go.
"Isn't my unnie super pretty?! Big Unnie is cool too, but Little Unnie is prettier!"
"Yeah! Your unnie is so pretty~!!"
"Unnie, unnie, do you wear makeup?"
Seol-hwa planted both hands on her hips in front of me, puffed out her chest with pride, and boasted about my looks. I was still wondering whether that was really true when one of the girls scurried right up and asked the question.
I gave a slightly sheepish smile and shook my head.
"Uh… no? I don't really wear makeup."
"Kyaa~!!"
At my answer the girl squealed, covered her face, and scurried back to her friends on tiny steps. Seol-hwa let out a triumphant ahem! and rose up on her tiptoes, thrusting her chest even higher.
I reached out carefully to brace her back in case she toppled over, and decided to play along for now. She must have been bragging about me a lot at kindergarten.
From a distance, Father was chuckling as he filmed the whole scene on his phone.
I could only hope my ears, flushed with embarrassment, looked red from the cold.
The new year dawned. Turning ten meant I was now legally allowed to go out without my parents.
Of course, that didn't mean it was encouraged. Until middle school, going around with your parents was still the norm — but legally, from age ten you could go alone.
Seol-hee, now twelve, kneaded my cheeks and snickered that we were both double digits now. Seol-hwa, still only seven, puffed out her face and swatted at me for still being a single digit all by herself.
I had no idea why growing older meant having my cheeks kneaded and getting swatted, but I smiled and took the teasing in stride.
Father worried that my mental maturity might get me tangled up in all sorts of trouble if I went out alone. Held captive between Seol-hee and Seol-hwa, I gave a small shake of my head to tell him not to worry.
I could go out alone now if I wanted, but I had no real intention of doing so. There wasn't much I could do by myself, and no particular reason to go. Just being able to step out front for a light stretch when the house felt stifling, or take a quick loop around the neighborhood, was enough for me.
I'd considered going alone to the library Father and I had driven to a few times, but I was still too young and weak to walk that kind of distance by myself.
Seol-hee kept kneading my cheeks with gusto, then scooped both Seol-hwa and me into her arms, marched up to Mother, and said with a dead-serious face:
"Mom. Buy me a phone already. I'm twelve."
"No. I already told you — when you start middle school."
"Harang's ten too~, so if you buy one for both of us, I can go get him if he runs into trouble while he's out."
"Then why don't I just buy one for Harang and have him call Mom and Dad?"
At Mother's reply Seol-hee scrunched up her face and made a long uuuugh sound, then retreated still clutching Seol-hwa and me.
I'd carefully asked Father once before why we weren't allowed to use the computer or phones at home. He'd given a slightly awkward smile and said it was just the culture to permit those things once kids entered middle school. Mother had given a similar answer, so I'd let it go — but Seol-hee clearly wanted a phone, and she was expressing her dissatisfaction by kneading my cheeks harder than usual.
Back in my hero days, an elf companion used to pull out slime cores and knead them whenever she was stressed. I wondered, fleetingly, if this was how those slime cores had felt.
For the first time in a while, Seol-hwa and Ryu-yeong started sparring in the training hall at the Erosion Control Center. "Sparring" was generous — Ryu-yeong was basically just taking hits one-sidedly.
Seol-hee was spending a week at Mother's workplace for a winter-break job-shadowing assignment, and Seol-hwa seized the opening to throw herself into intense training with Ryu-yeong.
Seol-hwa's superpower was clearly less dense than Seol-hee's or Ryu-yeong's, but the water-droplet nature of it let her use it in surprisingly varied ways. She kicked off a water droplet to leap into the air, formed another midair, and fired it again. When Ryu-yeong threw a punch far slower than usual, Seol-hwa wrapped herself in water droplets to block the blow.
The enormous, bouncy water sphere that absorbed the attack sent Seol-hwa ricocheting off walls and floor until she complained of dizziness — but that was something she needed to learn to control.
I went over to Ryu-yeong and asked if holding back so much wasn't frustrating. She poked my cheeks and grinned, saying the power control was just so she could torment me properly.
Once Seol-hwa recovered, she formed another giant water droplet and climbed on top. I told her we'd practice movement this time and had her work on spinning the droplet she was sitting on.
Leaving Seol-hwa flailing to keep her balance atop a water sphere the size of her own torso, I sent Ryu-yeong on shuttle runs from one end of the training hall to the other.
Ryu-yeong tilted her head and asked if it was even a useful exercise. I told her it was basic stamina training and made her run.
It was absolutely not revenge for that time she'd told the whole class to knead my cheeks.
Three weeks before winter break ended, we invited Ryu-yeong over to our house. It was a taiyaki party, organized by Seol-hee.
The taiyaki machine Seol-hee had begged Mother to buy last winter kept churning out fish-shaped pastries under Father's and my preparation. The week before, Seol-hee had stuffed her mouth full of them, eyes suddenly lighting up, and suggested we invite Ryu-yeong too. So that Saturday, at our regular meetup, I invited Ryu-yeong to the taiyaki party.
She hugged me and jumped up and down with so much joy she practically accepted on the spot. Back in the summer, when she'd invited us to the resort, she'd said making friends was a first for her — so coming over to someone else's house must have been a first as well.
Father and I waited for her while prepping the ingredients. The moment the doorbell rang and Ryu-yeong arrived, Seol-hee put on a triumphant look and declared:
"Ryu-yeong. It's a contest. Who can eat more taiyaki. I am not losing."
"…Ha! Fine, sunbae. You think I'm going to lose? Harang! You said you're making them, right? Be ready to keep baking until tomorrow!"
Seol-hee challenged the newly arrived Ryu-yeong to a taiyaki-eating contest. Ryu-yeong pondered the words for a second, then snorted and accepted.
They would just be eating while Father and I alone suffered through prepping and baking — but both of us chuckled at the contest and prepared even more ingredients.
The taiyaki bet Ryu-yeong had boldly claimed would last until tomorrow ended in under three hours with her surrender and Seol-hee's victory.
Seol-hee kept eating as if she still hadn't had enough, pulled me into a hug, and provoked Ryu-yeong to come back stronger. Ryu-yeong rubbed her stomach with a look of genuine, bitter defeat.
I had no idea what was so humiliating about it, but Seol-hee smiled in satisfaction at the sight and tried to keep eating past midnight — until Father and I forcibly ended the party on the grounds of sleep.
Faced with a taiyaki party that had nearly run all night by accident, Mother called Ryu-yeong's mother to ask if Ryu-yeong could sleep over. When Ryu-yeong's mother agreed, both Ryu-yeong and I stared at Mother's phone in surprise — but Mother just smiled as if she'd known all along, answered, and hung up.
I went over to Father with a slightly worried look and whispered whether sleeping in my room might give away that I was a boy. He stroked my hair and reassured me that Ryu-yeong would sleep in Mother and Father's room.
Ryu-yeong also seemed relieved at the news that she'd be sleeping with my parents rather than in my room; she let out a small breath and nodded. Everyone was satisfied with the taiyaki party — everyone except Seol-hee, who still looked unsatisfied as she headed back to her own room — and so it came to an end.