Siblings, Snacks, and Social Media Smackdown
Is this surprising? Of course not. I scrolled through my phone while digging into Mom's galbi jjim. She sat down next to me after piling my plate with banchan, propping her chin on her hand.
"So, when are you bringing a girlfriend home?"
"....."
"I had you when I was younger than you are now?"
Acting like Dad at this age would land me on the news. The country was hyping me up as a promising fighter—if anyone touched a 17-year-old, it'd be game over.
"Is that why you're giving me all this grief? Because you don't have a girl?"
Mom was piecing together a reason from my earlier antics. I'd just kissed her cheek because it had been a while and I missed her.
"I was just happy to see you after so long."
"Should I introduce you to a nice girl?"
"No thanks."
"She's really sweet, good personality too."
Mom pulled out her phone, showing me a photo of some niece of a friend. She was beautiful, sure, but not my type at all—way too straight-laced and sturdy-looking. More than that, I had zero plans to get a girlfriend. My personality wasn't built for sticky romance anyway. And with my goals, I knew my own shortcomings too well to drag someone else down.
Seeing me lost in thought, Mom slowly opened her mouth.
"You're not into guys, right?"
"What the hell kind of disgusting talk is that?"
She scanned my face, double-checking her son wasn't gay.
"You've done everything with that Noona Min-seo, right?"
"Oh... really?"
Our conversation topic shifted fast.
"No plans to take the kids on a trip? 3.1 Festival's coming up soon."
"Beom-jun and Hayun need to be middle schoolers before we go abroad~"
Mom said they were still too young to drag around.
"What about a hotel staycation?"
"Camping would be fun too. Your dad loves it."
Before regression, Dad had picked up camping late in life. Things had changed a lot, but the butterfly effect had him hooked way earlier. Maybe with all the little ones at home, he needed some alone time.
"Got a lot of gear?"
"He spends a ton on it."
"Wanna go camping then?"
"Sounds good."
Mom checked the time and stood up.
"Can you help pick up the kids from school?"
"Where you headed?"
"Gym time, and catch up with friends."
She went to the taekwondo dojo I'd attended too. She took Harin and Beom-jun sometimes.
"Tell me the time."
Harin's middle school was right next door, but Beom-jun and Hayun's elementary was farther. I asked for the dismissal times.
"Grab some snacks at a tteokbokki joint on the way. Hayun's obsessed with it lately."
"Sure thing."
After eating, I lounged at home alone for a bit, then took my first car—a 7 Series—out for a spin. I parked at my old middle school and fiddled with my phone. Brown had messaged that I'd fight Dmitry for the title at WFC 173. Cue immediate SNS dive.
I propped my phone on the dash mount. Harin was coming out of school. Not just bias—my sister really shone from afar. Her proportions were killer, and the Western look made her stand out even more. Problem was the horde of boys eyeing her with sleazy stares.
Still chilly, but I got out in short sleeves and headed to the passenger side, striking a cool pose. She spotted me and bolted over. I caught her mid-leap on my left arm, smiling as I hoisted her up.
"What're you doing in a skirt~?"
"I can still jump in a skirt!"
I glanced over her shoulder at the boys staring. My glare made them avert their eyes. Girls her age might blush, but not Harin. Beom-jun was the same—pure puppy energy.
Finally noticing the crowd, Harin hopped into the passenger seat. Her friends approached and greeted me.
"Hi!"
"Hey. Harin's friends?"
"Yes!"
"We watched your fight, Oppa!"
They were as bubbly as her, so I grinned. Then, quietly to them:
"Harin got a boyfriend?"
I whispered, but she heard. Killing intent prickled—I turned to see her glaring at her friends.
"Nope."
"No way. A boyfriendless cutie like you?"
She smacked my head lightly, smiling. She knew she was pretty.
"Get some tteokbokki with your friends."
"Eek!? Thank you!"
I pulled out a 50,000 won bill, and they bowed like crazy. I waved goodbye to her crew and slid into the driver's seat.
"Tteokbokki for us too?"
"Yeah! There's a new spot under Dad's building—shrimp tempura's killer."
"Nice."
Shark Tteokbokki, full of nostalgia, had finally opened. As we headed to elementary, Harin cranked the music—straight hip-hop, tastes don't change.
"You drive so well, Oppa. You do in the States too?"
"Yeah, but Mom's the real pro."
"Really?"
Pre-regression, Harin drove great; I was just okay—no tickets.
We pulled up to elementary, singing along to hip-hop while waiting. Beom-jun emerged with Hayun, but unlike her solo vibe, he had a massive friend squad.
Beom-jun coolly fist-bumped his crew and hopped in. Nine kids bowed 90 degrees to me. I fished out another 50,000 won bill.
"Snacks at the tteokbokki place up front."
"Thank you!"
Polite munchkins are always adorable. As I drove off, Beom-jun poked his head forward.
"Hyung! Where to?"
"New tteokbokki under Dad's shop."
Rearview showed Hayun hesitating. She wanted home, but held back with Harin there.
"Wanna head home first? I'll bring takeout."
"Nah, let's eat together."
Harin's words lit up Hayun's eyes, then she drooped again. Like me, she was a homebody.
We grabbed a corner booth at the tteokbokki spot—better if no one recognized me and bugged the kids. Harin handled ordering. Hayun, who wanted home, lit up after one bite. Total tteokbokki ghost lately—adorable.
Beom-jun shoveled food like a champ, abusing that pretty-boy face. Hayun took after Mom, no slouch in looks. But with Harin, Beom-jun, Hayun, and me... I felt a twinge of inferiority. I'd been content with my looks—until these three proved I got shortchanged genetically.
Back home, I sent the kids up first and lingered in the car, checking SNS. Dmitry's posts trickled in. Boxing folks wanted him to beat me, so he was flexing hard.
Light jab, but Dmitry fired back quick.
Dmitry's dad was a pastor, and he was a devout Christian type.
He hadn't tested positive for drugs yet. But knowing the future, I posted.
Real uncles in the pic.
That one hit home—probably churchgoers from Dad's spot. No more posts from Dmitry.
Heading inside late, Harin was playing puzzle with Hayun—tough one. Beom-jun glued to games in his room.
"Oppa, Hayun dances so well!"
Idol on TV grooving. I was weirdly famous for dancing well. If Hayun took after me, she'd kill it.
Her expectant eyes made Hayun glance around nervously. Mom chimed in:
"Show Oppa~"
"Okay."
Hayun stood and danced to the beat. Half-assing it—she hated it—but her moves were cute as hell.
I jumped up and danced beside her. Her eyes went wide, then she beamed.
"Not like that~"
"How then?"
"Like this."
I followed her excited demo, swaying my hips. Mom and Harin giggled at my sleazy vibe.