“Cheondo… When did you two become so close?”
A rib fell from Baekdo’s chopsticks and rolled onto the plate in front.
“Exactly! When did you charm our brother?”
“Charm? Who charmed whom!”
“Cheondo charmed our brother?”
“!!!!!!!”
Hwangdo excitedly chimed in. The misunderstanding deepened, making Baekdo’s face turn ghostly pale.
“We are close, but there was no charming involved.”
Who could Cheondo possibly charm?
She had no interest in romance and was like an innocent child who believed magical girls truly existed in this world.As for charming men with her body or deliberately using a sultry voice? Perhaps Hwangdo might, but Cheondo doing such things was unimaginable.
“Right?”
Baekdo looked at Cheondo for confirmation, feeling reassured.
“…Huh?”
Cheondo, with chopsticks still in her mouth, widened her eyes in surprise.
Her lower lip, gripping the chopsticks, trembled.
“Definitely.”
Seeing Cheondo holding the chopsticks in her mouth for so long, Hwangdo pointed at her, startled.
“Definitely?”
“100 percent! You two are dating, right?”
Drawing from her knowledge of dramas and modern slang, Hwangdo couldn’t be more certain, pointing accusingly at Cheondo’s chopsticks.
But to me, it sounded like she was grasping at straws.
Dating? That’s far from it.
In fact, there was a time our relationship nearly broke down completely.
Cheondo, looking puzzled, glanced back and forth between me and Hwangdo.
“No?”
I denied it briefly.
Meanwhile, as I cut a second piece of meat and placed it on the plate in front, Hwangdo started to eat the meat eagerly, chewing happily.
Such strange assumptions.
It seemed the sisters harbored doubts about the suddenly close distance between Cheondo and me, but fundamentally, this misunderstanding was entirely misplaced.
Why?
“Cheondo wouldn’t even understand what dating means.”
“Ah, that makes sense.”
Hwangdo readily accepted this.
“Our brother is boring…”
Instead, she turned to criticize me.
“Still…”
Hwangdo drew out her words, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she looked at Cheondo. Their gazes clashed. Cheondo’s expression was obscured from my view.
“So how did you two become close?”
Baekdo’s question lingered in the air.
Cheondo finally removed the chopsticks from her mouth and cleared her throat.
“…Because we’re martial siblings. It’s natural to be close.”
An obvious statement.
So obvious that Baekdo closed her mouth, her wide-open eyes betraying a sense of injustice.
“…Aren’t you two rivals?”
At that, Cheondo and I exchanged glances.
Rivals vying for the position of Cheonma. That was how Cheondo saw me.
But any animosity between us had been openly resolved long ago.
Much time had passed since then. Now, it was merely a subject of gossip.
“Is there a rule that says rivals can’t be close?”
“Cheondo might not become Cheonma.”
“Then I can be with Hwangdo and Baekdo.”
Cheondo replied nonchalantly to Baekdo’s cautionary words.
Contemplating the future.
Of course, the future where I became Cheonma wasn’t considered here.
“I have no desire to become Cheonma. Baekdo, you’re being overly persistent.”
It was likely mentioned due to a lingering sense of worry.
I understood why. For Baekdo, Cheondo represented both envy and admiration.
No one wanted to witness the person they admired being surpassed by an outsider.
From one perspective, it might seem childish.
But when you put yourself in their position, it’s understandable.
I wouldn’t want to see my mentor bested by someone else either.
“But the thought of Cheondo losing to someone else is unfathomable.”
“……”
Baekdo sat in silence, not even touching the meat she usually enjoyed.
Her eyes, narrowed in frustration, caused Cheondo to pause as well.
“Baekdo. Stop it. You’re making the mood awkward.”
“…Sorry.”
Baekdo apologized, her head bowed, her mood softened by Hwangdo’s chiding.
This girl’s affection for Cheondo was too deep for her own good.
“It’s okay, Baekdo. I won’t lose to brother.”
Perhaps seeing right through Baekdo’s concerns,
Cheondo energetically lifted her arms and smiled.
“My brother is incredibly strong, but he said I could do it. Right?”
“Right.”
Brightly.
With that confident demeanor, Baekdo’s sulky expression began to soften.
“Of course. How could you lose to someone like that?”
“Brother, Baekdo seems to be out of her mind.”
Acknowledged.
“Quiet. You talk too much; that’s your problem.”
“Eek! Why hit me… huhu.”
Perhaps it was worry or something akin to it that culminated in anxiety.
I felt sorry for Hwangdo, who was now holding her head and holding back tears, but thanks to that, the atmosphere significantly lightened.
“What will you do if you lose your hair! The future groom is waiting.”
“What are you talking about?”
Hwangdo, outraged on behalf of her future husband.
Both Cheondo and Baekdo chuckled.
The grill, which had paused for a moment, started to heat up again.
“But my brother has been a great help.”
“That person?”
“Yeah. He helped with my posture, bought me food, and taught me almost everything about work. Saying that this is what you have to do if you become Cheonma.”
At Cheondo’s words, Baekdo looked at me with wide eyes.
“Really, for real?”
“Why would Cheondo lie?”
Lately, I have been assisting with Cheondo’s training.
After Cheondo started working, I taught her the business aspects that the old man couldn’t. Cheondo absorbed these like a sponge.
“I see.”
Finally, Baekdo offered me a steady gaze.
Though our eyes met, she quickly looked away, but I considered it significant progress.
“…Here.”
Baekdo quietly moved some of her meat onto my plate.
“Eat this.”
Could this be interpreted as a sign of reconciliation?
It felt like watching a white cat offering a paw jelly to its sulking owner.
“You haven’t been eating yourself.”
“Oh, then have mine too. Brother.”
Following Baekdo’s lead, Hwangdo chimed in, and Cheondo sneakily added her portion as well. My plate, previously adorned only with sliced green onions, was now piled high with meat.
“Focus on eating your own food.”
While the scene was heartwarming, the meat diligently divided among us ended up gathered in one place again. It wasn’t a futile effort, though; it felt good.
I started distributing the items on the grill one by one.
Baekdo added more marinated neck meat to her portion.
Cheondo preferred parts of the meat that were relatively fatty.
Hwangdo often ate her meat wrapped with vegetables, so I gave her some of mine. Paying attention to the small details, like the types of meat they often picked up, and dividing it according to their tastes made it easier for the kids to eat.
The meat juice ran along the cut surface.
“Brother.”
“Hm?”
“This is so delicious. I could never even dream of something like this…”
They were munching away happily.
“Right. It’s such a relief that brother came. We got to go outside~ and meet Cheondo, right Baekdo?”
“Uh, uh-huh.”
Baekdo reluctantly agreed with Hwangdo’s clear laughter.
“I wish to live in Dowon with brother for life~”
While putting a piece of meat in her mouth, Hwangdo spoke freely.
“My, you’re eating well, my daughters. This is on the house~ I received some peaches recently~”
“Ah, thank you.”
“Mrs. is the best! Brother, try this quickly.”
Perhaps because we ordered a lot of meat, the restaurant owner kindly brought over some peaches.
Three neatly cut peaches.
Each of a different kind, so there’s quite the variety to choose from.
“Delicious. Brother, which peach do you prefer?”
Cheondo, having picked a peach with a toothpick and letting out a pleased snort, asked me.
Then Hwangdo clapped her hands.
“Ah, right, brother. Do you know what the most forbidden topic to discuss in Dowon is?”
“Hm?”
“It’s about peach preferences. Whether they’re hard or soft, it always leads to fights.”
In Dowon, peaches were abundant, so they’re commonly seen everywhere.
We actually ate them quite often. It was always peaches for snacks.
Like Jeju oranges, there were so many that sometimes they were eaten almost out of obligation.
Eating them so frequently leads to strong opinions about peaches, much like discussions about the best place to get gukbap in Busan.
“I like the soft ones, but Baekdo insists that the hard ones are the best and always brings those.”
“Hey, that’s because you’re weird, Hwangdo.”
“See! How childish.”
Childish indeed.
I had many arguments with Baekdo over this.
But it somehow turned into a competition.
“Hard ones are delicious. Every bite is sweet and crunchy.”
“Ah, brother, you like the hard ones too?”
Hearing my words, Baekdo’s eyes widened.
“Really?”
“Of course~”
Sharing the same peach preference.
Could finding common ground suddenly make someone more favorable?
Yes.
Baekdo was such a person.
I had to undergo unfair training just because our preferences didn’t match.
“Then have this.”
After putting a hard peach in my mouth, Baekdo skewered another peach with a toothpick and handed it to me.
“Eat it twice. No, three times, or even four.”
“Pffft. Brother looks like a squirrel.”
Crunching away, my mouth was full of peaches.
Cheondo, unconcerned about peach preferences, was finishing off the remaining meat, and Hwangdo seemed pleased with the soft peaches, savoring them to her heart’s content. And Baekdo…
“Delicious, right?”
Baekdo’s eyes, which had been hostile towards me just moments ago, were now sparkling.
I chewed on the hard peach. As I swallowed, Baekdo’s lips quivered slightly.
Was she waiting for that one word of approval? After deep contemplation, I seriously spoke.
“…But I prefer water peaches more.”
Crunch. Young Baekdo’s face hardened.
“You dummy, idiot, sea cucumber, sea squirt, starfish, water peach bug!”
On the way to their parting.
In front of the house, as Shiheon was seeing off the sisters, Baekdo, who was sticking close to Cheondo, yelled at the top of her lungs.
“…It’s because brother lied.”
Under Cheondo’s gaze, Lee Shiheon scratched the back of his neck.
“I was honest.”
“Ah, hopeless… What are you going to do? She’s really mad.”
“I’ll try talking to her again when she’s calmed down.”
Unpleasant affection wasn’t always meant in a bad way.
Knowing this, Cheondo bitterly smiled in agreement.
Of course, not everyone shared this sentiment.
“I trusted you. I really did!”
Baekdo, sad about losing a comrade in the hard peach camp, and Hwangdo, who was holding onto Baekdo’s clothes, had a happy expression on his face.
“I believed in you, brother. I thought we agreed.”
“Is that so?”
There’s no gossip quite like peach preferences.
It was a chance to get closer, even if it meant engaging in debates. There’s just one person who took it seriously.
“…Then I’ll be heading off. Cheondo, you’re staying here?”
“Yes, there’s a lot we haven’t talked about yet.”
“Alright.”
“Thank you for today, brother.”
Lee Shiheon waved his hand and disappeared from view. Baekdo stormed into the house, while Cheondo remained outside, watching the spot where Shiheon had vanished.
“Cheondo?”
Hwangdo took a step towards Cheondo. Until then, Cheondo had been looking at the spot where the man disappeared. Her eyes were bittersweet and somewhat affectionate, like a flower bud just beginning to open.
It struck one right in the head just by looking at it.
It’s an intuitive feeling.
It sounded weird, but this was a rational conviction.
“Cheondo.”
“…Hm? What is it?”
“You do like brother after all.”
Cheondo tilted her head, an expression of innocence on her face.
“I do like him, but why?”
An innocent face. Over the years, Hwangdo’s eyes, tainted with skepticism, turned sly.
It was not love, but liking.
Hwangdo knew the difference well, but Cheondo was completely ignorant in this regard.
-Thump thump.
The mature heart of Hwangdo pointed the way.
This was it. Definitely it.
“Not that. How much do you really like him?”
“How much? Well…”
Hwangdo prided herself on her sharpness in these matters.
Knowing how to ask in a way that convinced the other person.
Both Baekdo and Cheondo showed little interest in these matters, which Hwangdo found problematic. She thought to herself and gently prodded Cheondo’s feelings.
“Do you like him enough to consider marriage?”
“Marriage? All of a sudden…?”
Cheondo frowned at the sudden question. Hwangdo raised her right index finger.
“Then, just imagine it.”
“But even if you say that… I don’t really understand.”
“Oh my. Close your eyes and listen to me.”
Deep breath.
Hwangdo whispered softly into Cheondo’s ear.
Everything, as inspired by the heart and innocence of a young girl who loves love stories.
Cheondo closed her eyes with a half-bemused expression.
“Imagine you’re married. Waking up in the morning… in the same bed as him. Kissing as soon as you wake up, greeting each other with a ‘did you sleep well?’”
“…Kiss?”
“Yes. Just a light peck on the lips because it’s morning. And then smiling at each other. ‘Did you sleep well?’ like that.”
As if under hypnosis, Cheondo’s expression, with her eyes still closed, gradually became more serious.
It was a sign she was becoming immersed.
“Then, you’d have breakfast together. Cheondo cooks and he says it’s delicious. Whether one marries, one is the Cheonma, and the other supports. You’d work together too, right?”
“…Yes.”
Becoming more aware.
Following Hwangdo’s words, the scenario she described unfolded in Cheondo’s mind.
Working together. Eating together. Sleeping together.
Hwangdo’s story began in the morning and continued until the evening, and Cheondo listened to the young girl’s story with her eyes closed until the very end.
“Sleeping under the same blanket.”
The story concluded.
Hwangdo could have been a writer, given how logically she structured the story.
Of course, Hwangdo’s mind ventured beyond the story, while Cheondo’s imagination halted right there.
‘With brother.’
Kissing and opening her eyes, then kissing and closing them.
“…Ah.”
The moment Cheondo’s face flushed was instantaneous.
Red as a beet. Like a ripe water peach, even her ears turned red.
Embarrassed, Cheondo covered her cheeks with her hands and sat down, her head bowed.
“How about it, would you dislike getting married?”
She shook her head.
“Would it be nice?”
She nodded.
“That’s what liking someone is.”
Cheondo couldn’t leave her spot for a while.
Her heart throbbed as if it would burst. The thoughts filling her head weren’t easily sorted.
A tender pink emotion, infinitely youthful and budding.
Breath rushed out of her mouth, meeting the cold air and vanishing into mist.
A throat that tightened, though no wrong was committed.
The more she pondered, the deeper she sank.
Cheondo, breathing shakily, placed her hand on her heart.
Her still immature heart was pounding.
Loud enough to be heard.
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