Ch.17I love you, Dad. Give me allowance. (2)

“Go home safely. Don’t wander off.”

“…Yeah, see you next week.”

After lunch, we waited at the station until the next train arrived before parting ways.

“Oh, today was… fun.”

“What was? Falling asleep on my chest?”

“Ah, no… not that…”

“Hehe. Just kidding, just kidding. Hurry up and go down. I can hear the train coming.”

“Oh, you’re right.”

“Don’t waste money on subway vending machines and stuff. Even if you buy me a Zero Lime, I still won’t tell you when my birthday is.”

“I-I know that much.”

After scanning his youth ID card at the turnstile, Do Hamin went down the stairs with a flushed face.

This time, he didn’t frantically come back up with a cola like before. I stood in front of the turnstile where he had left until I heard the train completely depart.

“It’s only 3 o’clock.”

An awkward time to say the day was over. Yet too late to make new plans.

The schedule with that kid Do Hamin on Saturday ended a bit early. The movie was fun, and lunch was delicious.

“…Maybe I should have suggested going to a karaoke place together.”

Over the past few days, I’ve discovered something after being possessed by Ban Do-young in <Half of a Half-Peninsula>.

While my memories, mind, and values remain the same as in my original world, the talents my body possesses basically follow those of Ban Do-young from <Half of a Half-Peninsula>.

Agile movements and athletic abilities from her superior height, neat and adorable handwriting from her delicate hands, and singing talent from her solid vocal cords.

None of these were talents or aptitudes I possessed in my original world.

Whether running on the field, taking notes, or even humming to myself, I felt like my body naturally moved accordingly without me having to try harder.

These were talents given to the character Ban Do-young in the work—or in other words, her default settings.

“With this voice, if I belted out the [Mari★juana] opening, that bastard Do Hamin would have wet himself right there.”

But it can’t be helped. Even the cheapest coin karaoke costs 500 won per song. Ban Do-young, whose bank account balance had hit 474 won, wasn’t qualified to hold a microphone.

“How will I survive until the next allowance? Hmm…”

A high school student’s wallet was thinner and more gaunt than even a broke office worker’s. Unlike adults who could endure hunger until payday, Ban Do-young’s growing body was powerless against such starvation.

Even if my mind followed the original Ban Do-young, my body was still that of 17-year-old Miss Ban Do-young. It was an age where your stomach would hollow out as soon as you turned around.

“Maybe I should get a part-time job… I did a lot in high school. Or should I raid Ban Do-young’s brother’s room, who’s supposedly in the military…?”

I returned home contemplating future funding. It was the day marking the end of my first Saturday routine as Ban Do-young in <Half of a Half-Peninsula>.

“I’m home.”

“Welcome back.”

Dad came to the entrance, seemingly pleased with his daughter’s early return.

“You’re back earlier than expected. Was the movie good?”

“It was a masterpiece. Oh, and that new tonkatsu place was delicious too. Later, we should go together…”

The moment my eyes met Dad’s at the entrance, I couldn’t continue speaking.

Pink apron, bright red rubber gloves, orange broom and mop. He was equipped with items that didn’t match the word ‘Dad’ at all.

“What’s with that getup… Playing house?”

“What nonsense. Change your clothes and come with me. We’re going to clean the dojo.”

“EEEEEK!”

“Why are you suddenly screaming so loudly, you brat?”

Dad frowned and covered his ringing ears.

“We agreed this morning. You said you’d help clean the dojo in exchange for skipping morning duty because you had plans with a friend.”

“Tch… I can’t believe you remembered that.”

Dad handed me the blue mop he was holding.

“Here, Do-young, you’re the mop.”

“I’m still a virgin, you know.”

“Stop being cheeky.”

Miss Ban Do-young’s Saturday wasn’t over yet.

…

According to the setting, Ban Do-young’s family ran a kendo dojo.

Her father was the dojo master. Her eldest brother, who was in the military, majored in sports at university. Her youngest sister had even gone abroad to study kendo. Except for Ban Do-young, it was a family deeply rooted in kendo.

Isn’t it common? The setting where the heroine in a creative work is the daughter of a prestigious sword master family.

“The flyers we distributed in the new apartment complex must have worked. I didn’t expect so many people to register. Even Dad was a bit surprised.”

March, when the new semester begins, is the period when the number of beginners who want to learn something new—whether at academies or gyms—increases the most.

In fact, academies and dojos also conduct promotional activities during this period to increase the number of beginners.

‘Mister, are you selling this Topblade set?’

‘Oh, do you want it? If you join our dojo, the master will give it to you for free.’

‘Wow! I’ll tell my mom I want to join the dojo!’

Thinking back to elementary school, when I fell for the taekwondo master who was promoting with popular spinning toys in front of the school and registered, it was understandable that beginners would increase during this period.

As Ban Do-young’s family had been running the dojo in the neighborhood for a long time in the work’s setting, they had prepared uniforms and practice bamboo swords for new registrants during this period.

However, this year, there were more new registrants than expected, so they even had to take out items that had been stored in the warehouse.

“I already miss when it was ‘only 3 o’clock.'”

Thanks to this, even I, who wasn’t scheduled to, had to be dragged to the kendo dojo. If I had known this would happen, I would have borrowed money from Do Hamin and gone to karaoke.

“Ugh, weekend overtime with passion pay… Is this the military?”

“What would you know about the military?”

“…”

“Why are you trembling with your fists?”

Seriously. I can’t even recite my rifle number.

“Stop being sulky and wear your mask properly. We don’t know how much dust has accumulated since we haven’t been to the warehouse for a while.”

“Argh… black family business… so unfair.”

-Whoosh

As soon as Dad unlocked the warehouse door beneath the dojo, gray dust from the ceiling and shelves gave us a grand welcome.

“Cough! Hack! Cough! So much dust!”

“It’s worse than I thought. Your mom would throw a fit if she knew.”

I covered my mouth with my hand and peeked inside the warehouse. Having been neglected for a long time, dust and cobwebs filled the shelves everywhere.

“Are we really going to clean all this? It looks haunted.”

“Ghosts? Just hit them with a bamboo sword, why be afraid of such—”

-Scurry scurry scurry

At that moment, something brownish darted out from the warehouse threshold, passing between Dad and me. Some call it a “transformation,” others call it “teacher.” But I didn’t want to utter its name in any expression.

“…”

“…”

Having opened Pandora’s box, Dad and I exchanged glances. The moment we saw the state of the neglected warehouse, we instinctively knew.

Even if we spent all the remaining weekend time, we couldn’t completely organize that warehouse.

“…Should we just use what we have? People might register and then stop coming anyway, and if we’re short on uniforms, it might be better to order new ones…”

“A wise decision, father.”

I gave a thumbs up to Dad’s business sense of considering the customers. Like people who had committed some crime, Dad and I quietly closed the warehouse door we had enthusiastically opened.

-Buzz

Just as Dad was about to lock the warehouse door again, a vibration sound alerting a phone call rang from his pocket.

“Ah, a call…”

As Dad took out his phone from his pocket, his expression hardened as soon as he saw the caller’s name.

“J-just wait a moment.”

Dad stopped locking the door and moved away from me to answer the call.

“Hello… Ah, Do-young’s mom.”

That title Dad uttered with a tense voice,

‘Do-young’s mom.’

The person Dad was talking to on the other end of the phone was Mom, who was accompanying the youngest sister studying abroad. More precisely, it was Miss Ban Do-young’s mom.

“Yes, Do-young and I are doing fine. Is Si-young doing well? Uh, yes…? No, no, no… I didn’t ask about Si-young first because I’m not curious about how you’re doing, just worried if Si-young is adapting well to life away from home… No, of course I love you too. Yes, yes. Who else would I look at besides you?”

As if receiving a call from a superior, Dad’s speech became awkward, and he bowed his waist, taking a respectful posture during the call. For a moment, I saw Do Hamin overlapping with Dad’s image.

“…What? N-next week? I-I see… Ah, of course. I’ll clean up the dojo neatly and wait for you.”

-Click

After a while, Dad put down his phone with a grave face.

“Ban Do-young, grab the mop. Mom’s coming next week.”

And that’s where Miss Ban Do-young’s weekend ended.