Ch.1717. The Reason My Heart Flutters

I had been thinking about that for a while.

Unable to wait patiently in the living room, I came out to the kitchen. Despite Hwa Nabi telling me to just trust her, I couldn’t help feeling anxious.

I moved with muffled footsteps, even holding my breath. This made me feel like a thief sneaking around to steal something….

“Since it’s raining, should I make pancakes? No, that seems a bit lacking for dinner.”

Peeking discreetly, I saw Hwa Nabi seriously contemplating something with a large sealed container in front of her.

I couldn’t tell what she was planning to make, but I could see it involved kimchi.

Kimchi. That was a surprisingly conventional choice for someone as eccentric as Hwa Nabi. After all, very few Koreans dislike kimchi. Just look at school lunches—there’s hardly ever a meal without kimchi.

She’d attended cooking classes and even received praise from her teacher. Plus, the main ingredient was kimchi, which is actually harder to ruin in cooking.

At this point, I figured it wouldn’t be completely inedible. But this was Hwa Nabi we’re talking about. Not wanting to let my guard down and get caught by a counter-punch, I deliberately made my presence known.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, Siwoo. I told you to wait in the living room. Why did you come out?”

I couldn’t exactly say “because I don’t trust you,” so I just brushed it off.

“Just curious about what you’re making. Kimchi, huh?”

“Yes. You don’t dislike kimchi, do you?”

If asked about my preference, I definitely lean toward liking it. So I shook my head.

“I like it. But what are you planning to make?”

“I was just wondering about that myself, so this is perfect. I can ask you directly. Would you prefer stew or pancakes?”

“You know how to make pancakes too?”

People tend to think pancakes are easy because the cooking method seems simple, but they’re actually quite difficult to get right. I can vouch for that with my nearly 10 years of living alone.

“I know how to make other things too, but I’m out of ingredients. I can’t go out shopping at this hour. I should have gone grocery shopping earlier.”

As Hwa Nabi said, it was already past 8 PM. Most markets would be closed by now, and while convenience stores would be open, buying groceries there would be overpriced.

“Then kimchi stew would be better, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, that would be better.”

And so, tonight’s dinner was apparently decided to be kimchi stew. Nodding in agreement with my opinion, Hwa Nabi immediately started cooking.

Without hesitation, she went to the refrigerator and took out green onions, placed them on the cutting board, and sliced them diagonally with practiced movements.

I watched the process without saying anything. Backseat cooking would just be annoying.

“…”

But at that moment, I wondered if it was right to just stand by and watch. If I didn’t know how to cook at all, that would be one thing, but knowing how and just observing felt a bit selfish.

“Hwa Nabi, should I help?”

“What? Siwoo, you know how to cook?”

Hwa Nabi turned to me with a surprised face. The roles seemed reversed now. She must be quite confident in her cooking skills.

But I’m no slouch in the kitchen either. This isn’t just baseless confidence—cooking has been my responsibility since I started living alone. You can’t eat out for every meal forever.

So I learned simple recipes to cut down on food expenses, which was a natural progression.

“I can handle simple dishes.”

“…Really? You’re not just saying that, are you?”

Hwa Nabi looked at me with obvious doubt. I suppose that’s understandable. If someone who appears to have grown up privileged in a wealthy family claims they can cook, I wouldn’t believe it either.

“It’s true. Haven’t you seen my grades?”

“What do grades have to do with cooking?”

“People who are good at math are usually good at cooking.”

Hwa Nabi seemed to find my assertion absurd. She narrowed her eyebrows while giving me a look of disbelief. But my statement wasn’t completely unfounded.

The common core of math and cooking is numbers. From the basic measurements that form the foundation of cooking, there’s a close relationship with math, so cooking is essentially math.

“Oh my, who’s going to stop you? Fine. Then… could you slice the tofu?”

The fact that she assigned me a task even an elementary school student could do made it clear she didn’t trust me, though she didn’t say it. I’ll have to cook for her myself sometime to prove it. With that resolution in mind, I just nodded. There was no point in arguing about it.

“Sure. Where are the knives?”

“If you open the drawer to my right, you’ll find them.”

“Okay.”

As I mentioned earlier, slicing tofu is so easy even a kindergartener could do it.

First, cut it in half horizontally, then slice it vertically into small pieces. The resulting tofu pieces are about 2cm in size—small enough for even someone with a small mouth to eat in one bite.

“I’m done.”

“Already? Let me see.”

Speaking like a parent checking a child’s homework, Hwa Nabi examined the results on the cutting board.

Though it was clearly nothing special, surprise spread across her face.

“You cut it better than I expected. I don’t think I even specified what size to cut it.”

“Do I really need to be told that?”

This is something anyone with common sense could do, without needing to know cooking techniques.

“Alright, I believe you. You really can cook.”

“…How can you tell just from this?”

“You don’t always need to see everything to know, right?”

Having my own words thrown back at me left me momentarily speechless.

Hwa Nabi walked past me and soon brought out various ingredients along with a pot.

The items placed beside the cutting board included chili oil, cooking oil, pork… This was much more elaborate than I had expected, thinking we’d just add water and kimchi to boil after cutting the tofu.

“Are you going to use all of this?”

“Yes, of course. It’s kimchi stew.”

It seems her story about attending cooking classes was true after all.

But do cooking classes these days teach how to make kimchi stew? Well, I wouldn’t know since I’ve never taken one. The only academy I ever attended was a speech academy when I was young.

“I’ll call you when it’s ready, so you can go rest now, Siwoo.”

“Is there nothing else I can help with? It feels a bit wrong to get a free meal.”

I asked because I felt uncomfortable just relaxing while she did all the cooking, as if I were some lord.

At my question, Hwa Nabi suddenly winked one eye.

…An unexpectedly cute, if ill-timed, wink.

“…Huh?”

It was cute, but why so suddenly? Caught off guard, I found myself at a loss for words. I could only ask with my eyes.

Hwa Nabi muttered while looking down at the pot, not at me.

“I’m not doing this for free. This is a bribe for you.”

“A bribe?”

It’s under 50,000 won, so it doesn’t violate the Kim Young-ran Law. I was so surprised that such ridiculous thoughts crossed my mind.

…That’s how startled I was by Hwa Nabi’s wink. My heart was racing for no reason.

“You’re going to tutor me, right? So this is my way of asking you to go easy on me.”

“…Ah.”

In that sense, it was a perfectly appropriate action. I had almost been ready to share all my study know-how with her.

“Anyway, are you going to keep standing there? You’re in my way while I’m cooking.”

“Oh, right. Got it.”

There was nothing wrong with what Hwa Nabi said. As she pointed out, I wasn’t supervising her, and watching her cook from behind would only be a distraction.

Somewhat convinced, I returned to the living room and only after sitting on the sofa did I place my hand on my chest.

-Thump thump.

My heart was still pounding.

Why?

“…Cardiac arrhythmia?”

I should probably see a doctor.

*

The meal ended, and I barely noticed whether the food went down my throat or my nose.

“Siwoo, how was the taste?”

-Clatter.

Even with a dishwasher, you still need to rinse dishes before loading them. So while I was rinsing dishes at the sink with the water running, Hwa Nabi suddenly asked this question from beside me.

I glanced sideways at her. She was peeling an apple with a knife. It’s dangerous to look away while using a knife.

“Why do you keep asking something you’ve already asked?”

Though it wasn’t right for me to respond with such an attitude after getting a free meal, today was an exception. She had asked the same question not just once, but over ten times.

No, not ten times. She had asked almost every time I took a spoonful of food, so it must have been over twenty times by now. At this point, anyone who wasn’t Buddha himself would get annoyed.

So I snapped back at her.

“This is the first time I’ve cooked for anyone outside my family. So how was it? It was good, right?”

“Yeah, I told you it was good.”

“Really? Really really?”

“Yes, really really.”

“Are you sure? Really really really?”

This wasn’t even a word game. I felt a surge of irritation and almost splashed water on her.

“Ah, cold!”

Wait… I had already splashed water on her before I realized it.

Of course, I didn’t throw the dishwater at her. I had blocked the faucet with my hand to increase the water pressure and sprayed it—the kind of prank we used to do at water fountains during school days.

“Siwoo, did you just splash water on me?!”

“Ah, sorry. It was an accident.”

“No way, it totally seemed intentional!”

“Why would I splash water on you? Are you a flower or something?”

“Well, I am a flower, aren’t I?”

“…What?”

I looked at her again, dumbfounded.

Well, objectively and subjectively speaking, Hwa Nabi’s appearance was undeniably outstanding.

She had large eyes and refined features. And while I’m quite tall, making her seem shorter in comparison, Hwa Nabi was actually average height for an adult woman.

In other words, apart from her unusual personality, she had no shortcomings. She was probably among the top three prettiest girls at Chungha Highschool, where there were suspiciously many beautiful women.

…But that’s beside the point.

This was the first time I’d ever met someone who referred to themselves as a flower.

Should I call this high self-esteem or just arrogance? As I was seriously pondering this, Hwa Nabi suddenly blushed.

“Wait a minute. Siwoo, I think you’re misunderstanding something. That’s not what I meant.”

“What misunderstanding?”

Clatter. Since we hadn’t used many dishes to begin with, the rinsing was almost done. While I responded indifferently, Hwa Nabi gave a detailed explanation.

“Siwoo, what’s my name? I mean, what’s my surname?”

“What was it again? Celsius?”

“Don’t joke around! I’m asking seriously.”

Celsius – Fahrenheit. It was my best dad joke, but Hwa Nabi seemed to take it as me making fun of her. That’s unfortunate.

“It’s Hwa.”

“Yes, it’s Hwa. Do you know which Chinese character is used for Hwa?”

“How would I know?”

There are at least a dozen possibilities that come to mind. The character for painting (畵), fire (火), disaster (過)…

But people don’t usually use such characters for surnames, so the range of likely candidates narrows considerably.

At that moment, it hit me.

The flower that Hwa Nabi had just mentioned, and her surname Hwa using the character for flower (花). The two words connected in my mind.

“Don’t tell me it’s the character for flower (花)?”

“Yes! Now do you understand why I said that?”

Hwa Nabi eagerly jumped at my casual remark, and I finally understood what she had meant.

Indeed, the reason Hwa Nabi referred to herself as a flower was because her surname Hwa (花) means “flower.” It was just a simple play on words that didn’t require deep thought.

“I don’t get it.”

“What?”

But I deliberately pretended not to understand. It seemed more fun that way.

Sure enough, the relief that had been spreading across Hwa Nabi’s face was replaced by a red flush once again.

“Why, why don’t you understand?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

I’m oblivious. That’s why I don’t understand. Repeating this to myself, I avoided Hwa Nabi’s gaze.

She grabbed my right arm with her reddened face.

Then she shook it back and forth. She was so indignant that she actually grabbed my arm and shook it.

“Why, why don’t you get it? Why, why? Should I explain it to you?”

“Is there a need to explain? You’re just saying you have a lot of self-confidence, right? You are pretty. So be confident. It looks good on you.”

“Nooo… that’s not what I meant. This is so unfair! Look, Siwoo. What I meant was…!”

“Alright, alright, now let go. I need to finish the dishes.”

“I look like a woman with flowers in her hair, and you’re worried about dishes?!”

“Dishes should always be done promptly.”

Otherwise, grease sticks to them. It’s hard to remove and smells terrible, which is why you should never let dishes pile up.

“Siwoo, be honest. You actually noticed, didn’t you? No, you must have. You’re doing this to me on purpose, right?”

“I told you I don’t understand.”

“Ah, really! Why don’t you understand this? Why, why!”

Hwa Nabi shook me so hard she might have torn the buttons off my shirt. I couldn’t help but laugh at her cute reaction. I tried to hold it in, but it was impossible.

“Siwoo, did you just laugh?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did…! You just laughed at me. Siwoo, you’ve been teasing me all along, haven’t you?”

“I told you I wasn’t….”

“Ugh, really. Still pretending not to know…! I give up. You can finish cleaning up by yourself. Hmph!”

She seemed genuinely upset, abandoning her half-peeled apple and walking away. I called out after her.

“Hwa Nabi, where are you going?”

“I don’t know! Don’t ask me. I’m not going to study anymore. I don’t care if I fail. So what if I have to repeat a year of school.”

In the end, it took quite some effort to appease her.