When Sharing Food, Split It Right Down the Middle
When sharing food, divide it strictly down the middle.
“……”
“Uh… you okay?”
“……Yes.”
“Heheh…”
He didn’t look remotely okay.
After what had nominally been dubbed ‘training’—but in practice amounted to simulated drowning—Gawol was thoroughly drenched from head to toe. Naturally, I could swear on my dick that it was purely the fruit of rigorous instruction without a single speck of personal spite. Or at least, I could have sworn on it if I still had one.
“Sorry.”
If I didn’t apologize right now, there was no telling what grim retaliation awaited me at mealtime. An apology was the only survival strategy.
“Haaah…”
Wringing the water from his tunic with white-knuckled fists, Gawol trudged toward me. His eyes remained stony and dead, yet the corners of his mouth stretched upward into an agonizingly forced smile.
“Surely, by no wild chance or cosmic fluke, did you do that on purpose. Right?”
“Y-Yeah. Right?”
Actually, no. You were testing the waters on whether to keep learning from me or not, and it pissed me off. But if I admit that, you’ll starve me.
Gawol shook his head in bitter resignation.
“Dragging me straight to the water without even letting me have breakfast proves you’re serious about this, I suppose. Well… I won’t dwell on it.”
A bold claim for someone who had been glaring daggers at me the entire time.
“Also, if the wraps around your wrists and ankles ever get filthy or uncomfortable, hand them over. It bothers me to no end seeing you walk around with them stained brown from mud.” He added a faint mumble under his breath: “I’ll wash them when I do the laundry.”
“Oh. Sure.”
Wait, that was why he kept staring at my feet?
All this talk of breakfast made a sudden emptiness gnaw at my gut. To think the thrill of vengeance—no, the joy of teaching—could momentarily distract me from hunger.
Grumble—
Right on cue.
“…Hey.”
You heard that, didn't you?
The gut-rumbling foghorn sounded with tragic timing, instantly doubling my hunger pangs.
“Food.”
“Did you deposit a meal with me beforehand?”
“You’re going to feed me anyway, so stop playing hard to get.”
“……”
Giving in, Gawol grabbed a nearby cloth to dry his feet, then brought over the fish we had trapped yesterday.
“I was in such a rush yesterday that I didn't count them properly, but looking today, there are only three left. I ate two, and three were gutted and hung to dry, which means…”
Hmm.
According to Gawol’s arithmetic, the undeniable conclusion was that I had devoured five fish all by myself. My memory concurred.
“Heh, aren’t you glad I stopped at five instead of eating one more?”
“Hardly. Considering your petite frame, that means you ate two and a half times as much as a grown man. Just what kind of fuel efficiency does your body run on…?”
Ah. That was definitely an insult.
“Hey, my efficiency isn't that bad, you know!”
In exchange, I had a wider field of vision, sharper hearing, and a superior sense of smell! I was fast on my feet, too!
“If you don't believe me, let’s arm wrestle right now!”
“Hmm…” At my challenge, Gawol cautiously took a step back. “Setting aside the fact that our hand sizes wouldn't even allow a proper grip, unless your intention is to snap my arm like a dry twig, give it up.”
“Too many excuses.”
See? He knew full well he’d lose.
Puffing my chest out with a triumphant grin, I stepped out of the water.
“Anyway, feed me. I’m starving.”
“………”
Why the creepy, frozen stare all of a sudden?
Without twitching a muscle, Gawol was glaring intently downward at an angle.
“W-What is it? Is there a bug?”
At my question, he tilted his head up slightly to look at me, murmuring with complete nonchalance.
“No… I just had a hunch, and sure enough, you don't have fur on your feet either.”
Fur…?
“Tsk, don't tell me your fetish is—”
“I find that deeply offensive. May I have your permission to withhold breakfast?”
“Sorry.”
Blackmailing me with food. How petty.
“What good is an apology? If you’re that desperate, you can always hunt for yourself, can’t you?”
Hunt… hunting, huh?
“Well…”
He wasn't wrong, strictly speaking. But here was the rub.
“Meat always tastes better when roasted by someone who knows what they're doing. The stuff you cook is leagues tastier.”
Over the past few days, eating the meals Gawol prepared, the meat Gawol roasted, and even the bitter medicinal concoctions Gawol brewed had thoroughly spoiled me, raising my culinary standards through the roof. To think he ruined my palate… in the best way possible.
“So what do you expect me to do about it?”
What else?
“Cook for me, obviously.”
Gawol set down the basket he had fetched, thumping a fish against a stone to stun it.
“Haaah… It’s breakfast, so make do with two.”
“Got it.”
Just give me the big ones, please.
As we munched on roasted fish for breakfast, conversation sparked naturally. Gawol broke the silence to ask about the training.
“So, does doing that really help someone improve?”
Crunch—
“Mmm… Probably? That’s how I learned it.” Granted, by then I already possessed the combat capability of roughly 5-Geom. “Keep at it and you’ll reach 5-Geom, and once you get to that level, you can master it…”
“Oho…”
“…maybe?”
Not that I had any real certainty.
“In other words, you have no confidence in that claim whatsoever.”
“Pretty much. I mean, I’ve never seen anyone else try it besides me…?”
Most martial artists defend themselves by circulating qi across their entire body. Almost no one concentrates qi into localized barriers the size of a bug.
“I practiced it after watching someone nearby passively deflect arrows and projectiles.”
By now, who that ‘someone’ was went without saying.
“Meaning it’s an original technique… born from imitation?”
“Yeah, basically.”
Though it rankled my pride that the person I had copied was Siun's Elder Brother.
“Still, putting it like that makes it sound impressive. Mind if I use that phrasing next time I explain it to someone?”
Just as first impressions matter for people, initial framing matters for martial arts. It was the difference between describing poison arts as ‘the decisive stroke that triumphs over an evenly matched master after a hundred exchanges’ versus ‘a cowardly kill-stealer relying on cheap debuffs.’
Gawol shrugged with total indifference.
“Pardon? Well… do whatever you like.”
“Mmm… Chomp!”
“Haah… Are you eating again already? And swallow what’s in your mouth before speaking.”
“Awwight.”
Spitting bones was a chore, so I might as well finish it in one go!
I stripped the entire fish off the skewer in a single mouthful, then turned back to face him.
“Satisfied?”
“Did you… just swallow the bones too—”
“What about them?”
They won't kill you. I’ve tested it.
“Right… of course…”
Gawol gave up and quietly resumed his meal.
“Hmph…”
Watching him pick at tiny portions one nibble at a time, he had the exact dining habits of someone bound to chase good fortune away. You need to inhale food in hearty gulps like me, you know?
“…Um.”
Oops, was I staring too hard?
Noticing my lingering gaze, Gawol spoke up.
“W-What? Earlier wasn’t petty revenge, I swear! It really was training!”
Well, it *was* revenge, but it was a misunderstanding nonetheless.
Gawol made a motion to cut his portion of fish in half.
“No… you were staring so intensely that I assumed you wanted more. If not, never mind.”
Snatch!
“Nah, I'll take it!”
I tore away the tail portion of the fish he was about to cut.
“…………”
Judging by the smoldering warmth radiating from the look he gave me, he seemed to appreciate my thoughtful consideration. They say the head is the prized delicacy of a fish anyway. Eat the best part, Gawol.
Much later, as our carriage rolled alongside the riverbank, swarms of gnats pelted against us, meeting ends every bit as miserable as mine had just been.
“Ow…”
“It’s been ages since I flicked you. Does it really still hurt?”
“I-It doesn’t hurt, alright?!”
Lowering the hand that had been vigorously rubbing my forehead, I snatched a piece of dried meat and chewed on it. The bastard had flicked my brow using his index and middle fingers together…
“Well, it was only a finger flick. Would you prefer another?”
What a bloodthirsty thing to say. I wouldn't take him up on that even as a joke.
“Don’t you know the ancient saying? ‘Do not strike another person, even with a flower.’ Never heard of it?”
“Doesn’t that imply that as long as you don’t treat them as a person, you can hit them with whatever you like?”
“Hey! That’s a gross distortion!”
“A distortion is what you committed against my rice sack! What kind of human being grabs a whole meal’s worth of raw rice and crunches it down just because they’re hungry? Huh?”
Tsk. Dragging up something from twenty minutes ago—how petty.
“T-That was… because you didn’t give me lunch.”
At the same time, I slyly hid the jerky I was snacking on behind my back. Granted, barely three hours had passed since breakfast, but a growing adult is always hungry!
Gawol snapped back without missing a beat.
“…Do you genuinely believe eating like that will make you grow taller? I’ve never heard of anyone hitting a growth spurt past twenty.”
“I will grow!”
Why wouldn’t I? In my memories, I knew two people who kept growing even after becoming adults. If Gawol didn’t know about that phenomenon, there was a very simple reason.
“That’s only because you’ve never served in the military…”
“The military, as in the army?”
For once, genuine curiosity crossed Gawol’s face.
“Yeah. There’s a mystical place where the fat emerge halved in size, and the scrawny bulk up two or three times over.”
“From the sound of it… that isn’t an army, that’s a den of demons.”
“Pretty close, though slightly different. For one thing, palm-sized, pale green goblins flutter through the air.”
“………You’re joking, right?”
“We called it Tinkerbell.”
“Tinker… what?”
“Yep.”
Its formal name was the moon moth, but nobody besides me ever seemed to know that. Why they didn’t was beyond me.
“Such a thing… Ghk—!”
Ah, damn it. A gnat flew straight into my mouth.
“Pthui! Pht-pht! Bleegh! H-Hey… got water?”
“What? Yes. Here…”
“Thanks.”
Gulp—
I chugged about half the canteen in one breath.
“Phew. Wow, I almost died.”
Here, take it back.
Accepting the waterskin, Gawol let out a dry chuckle.
“Hah. And here I thought you even ate grubs…”
What? Listen to this guy talking like someone who’s never enjoyed a cup of boiled silkworm pupae.
“Hey, how can you compare grubs to flying gnats? When you crunch on gnats, their wings stick between your teeth and—ahem.”
Watching Gawol’s face rot in real time, I clamped my mouth shut.
“You’ve… eaten… that?”
“Huh? Oh, not on purpose, of course! Total accident! You saw just now, right? Flew right down my throat! See? An innocent mistake!”
Despite my frantic excuses, Gawol’s expression only darkened into pure disgust.
“Haaah… I’m losing all respect for myself just listening to this. Let’s conclude your insect gastronomy and get ready.”
“Hm? Ready for what?”
“The forest. Even if we bypass the dense thicket because the carriage can’t pass through, there are plenty of small rogue camps scattered around the perimeter.”
“Aha…”
I thought it was something serious.
“And once we clear this forest, we’ll enter mountainous terrain. It won't be a long stretch, but you’ll need to stay sharp.”
“Are the paths narrow?”
“No. Nationwide, last year’s harvest was drastically lower compared to previous years, remember?”
“Huh…?”
Was it?
No matter how hard I racked my brain, the rice paddies I had seen last year were completely indistinguishable from the year before.
“Of course, as an exception, Geumwon and its surrounding lands always enjoy bumper crops, but inland Hoan suffered severe devastation.”
“Aha…”
Then it made sense that I had no idea.
“Look out.”
Gawol suddenly ducked his head.
“Hm? What's the su—”
Smack!
“Yeeek! W-What was that?!”
My tail!
“Hmm. I thought you’d dodge it.”
“What?”
Wait, that thing?
Whipping around, I saw a thick, sturdy tree branch swaying lazily back and forth behind our carriage.
“You could have warned me a second sooner…!”
You stayed quiet on purpose so I’d get whacked, didn’t you?!
“I’ll be sure to do that next time.”
“Hey!”
Why do I even bother talking to him?