Ch.2525. So What If I’m Not Good with Chopsticks

“…Who says it’s joint property? We each manage our own.”

But that’s that, and this is this. I’m a man with firm economic principles, and at the same time, a man with absolutely no patriarchal tendencies.

The idea that women do housework and men work outside is all outdated, right? So no matter how cute Hwa Nabi might be, I had no intention of giving up my future financial control.

“Tch, you’re so resolute. Fine.”

I thought I had answered seriously, but Hwa Nabi nodded agreeably as if she’d just been making casual conversation.

Well, of course it was just passing talk. For a seventeen-year-old high school student, the word “marriage” would be nothing more than a distant future concept.

I was in the middle of convincing myself of this when—

“Oh, right. Siwoo. Since we’re on the topic of marriage, when would you like to get married?”

It was such an unexpected delayed attack that I almost choked. Please, please, I wish she’d use her turn signal before making these conversational turns.

“…Are we still on this topic?”

“Why not? It’s extremely important. It’s not something we can each do separately, and we shouldn’t have different opinions on it, right?”

Hwa Nabi retorted as if asking why I would question something so obvious, and I was momentarily dumbfounded. She’s talking like it’s already decided, when not all engagements even lead to marriage.

…If I said that, it would definitely start a fight. So I put those thoughts aside and considered how to answer.

Marriage… To be honest, I’ve never seriously thought about marriage.

My previous life—well, it feels weird to call it that, but I don’t know what else to call it.

Anyway, in my previous life, I was too busy making ends meet to think about such things.

Getting married doesn’t end everything, does it? If you have children, there are childcare costs, and when the kids grow up, you need to move…

In modern society where the market interest rate is 1.5% but inflation hovers around 4%, marriage itself was nothing more than a dream to me.

Of course, I didn’t have anyone to marry either. Let’s just skip over that part. No need to make my heart ache by dwelling on it.

“Well…”

But what about now that those two problems are solved? I rubbed the back of my neck as I pondered seriously.

And as a result.

“For now… at least after we’re both adults.”

That textbook answer was all I could offer. It’s the obvious answer, really.

If I’d had time to think about it, maybe I could have said something else, but since she asked so suddenly, I didn’t have time to consider it properly.

However, Hwa Nabi didn’t seem to like my answer, as she narrowed her eyes and stared at me intently.

“…Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Siwoo, you’re not really asking because you don’t know, right?”

Hwa Nabi was speaking as if I was clueless, but honestly, I had no idea what she was getting at.

What I said wasn’t wrong, was it? I’m not well-versed in legal matters, but I believe the legal age for marriage is 19 for both men and women.

“What? I’m right, aren’t I? Is what I said wrong?”

“Logically, you’re correct. But emotionally, you’re wrong.”

Either it’s right or it’s wrong. What is she talking about?

After making a statement that would make any science student grab the back of their neck in frustration, Hwa Nabi suddenly stopped in her tracks. She turned toward me, stretched out her index finger, and pointed it at me.

“Siwoo. When a woman asks this kind of question, you’re supposed to just answer ‘right now.'”

“…But that’s not realistic.”

“So you’re half right and half wrong. Of course it’s unrealistic to get married right away, but women psychologically want a definite answer. Remember this and use it later.”

“Who am I supposed to use that with…”

I grumbled as I folded her index finger back down. These days, if you say something like that to just anyone, you’ll be headed straight to the police station for sexual harassment. The victim’s tears are evidence enough.

“Why? You can use it when you propose later. By the way, I don’t need a pink diamond ring. Just a decent ring is fine. It’s not like you can boil and eat gemstones anyway.”

“Alright. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

…While having this chaotic conversation, we continued walking until we entered a suitable Western restaurant.

I heard it was a place Hwa Nabi used to frequent with her friends during middle school.

“Can this really be considered a meal?”

I muttered as I flipped through the menu.

Indeed, the available menu items were mostly pasta, pizza, soup, sandwiches, and such. I wanted to eat rice.

“If it’s not enough, we can order more. If you really don’t like it, should we go somewhere else? I’m fine with anything.”

“No, it’s fine. Too lazy to walk.”

Weighing the inner whisper wanting rice against the laziness of having to walk somewhere else, the latter won by a slight margin.

I casually tossed out my response, and Hwa Nabi looked at me incredulously.

“…Aren’t you being too honest?”

“Anyway, what do you want to eat? I’m going to have the… drug corn pizza.”

That’s an unusual pizza name. Is this what’s trendy these days? I handed the menu I was holding to Hwa Nabi.

She quickly scanned the menu and closed it in less than five seconds.

“You decided already?”

“Yes. I’ll have the mushroom oil pasta.”

“I heard something called rose or whatever is popular these days. You don’t want that?”

“What? Siwoo, what are you talking about? That trend ended ages ago.”

“Oh… really?”

I see. This was a disaster caused by my lack of access to current trends. I shouldn’t pretend to know things with my half-baked knowledge from now on.

After deciding on our drinks as well, we placed our order, and after waiting about twenty minutes, the food arrived.

In front of me was a pizza with the strange name “drug corn pizza,” and in front of Hwa Nabi was a bowl of mushroom oil pasta.

“Oh…”

At least visually, the food I ordered passed the test.

According to the description under the menu, it had herb garlic butter-roasted sweet corn cheese, bacon, and mashed potatoes that added deep flavor to the pizza or something like that. I didn’t really understand, but it looked appetizing enough to make my mouth water.

I was about to taste a slice of pizza without further ado. That’s when it happened.

“Oh, wait a moment, Siwoo. Stop!”

“What, why?”

Hwa Nabi stopped me, even using English that she doesn’t normally use.

Wondering what was going on, I looked up to see her suddenly taking out her phone from her skirt pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“Just wait a moment. I want to take some photos for Instagram.”

“Ah… go ahead.”

It’s not like she’s posting pictures of expensive luxury items to show off, so why take pictures of just a meal? The habits of women are beyond my understanding.

-Click, click.

One shot from a different angle, one with her hand visible, one with my silhouette visible across the table… After taking about five or six photos, Hwa Nabi nodded with satisfaction.

“Okay, you can eat now.”

“This is so awkward I’m not sure the food will go down.”

Ignoring my grumbling, Hwa Nabi began her meal with elegant hand movements.

But then.

“Wait, Hwa Nabi. Stop.”

“Huh? Why?”

“…Why are you holding your chopsticks like that?”

Eating pasta with chopsticks instead of a fork is one thing. That’s just a different way of eating that varies from person to person, so it’s not really important.

But separately from that, I discovered something that bothered me so much I couldn’t just let it go.

Yes, it was none other than the way Hwa Nabi held her chopsticks.

She looked at me with bewildered eyes, as if she didn’t understand what the problem was.

“What’s wrong with how I hold my chopsticks?”

“What do you mean ‘what’s wrong’? Why are you crossing your chopsticks in an X shape?”

“…That’s not wrong, is it?”

No. Holding chopsticks in an X shape is not the proper way…!

I wanted to shout that, but I held back and took a deep breath.

First, first, let’s stay calm.

“Hwa Nabi, try holding your chopsticks properly once.”

Hwa Nabi put down her pasta and demonstrated her chopstick technique in the air.

Click, click. The wooden chopsticks made a sound as they hit each other, and I couldn’t help but cover my eyes.

…I wasn’t seeing things. Hwa Nabi was still holding her chopsticks crossed in an X shape.

Was she always like this? I carefully tried to recall, but nothing came to mind. That’s natural. We only used spoons when we ate together before. There was no way I could have noticed.

“Isn’t this right?”

“No. The correct way to use chopsticks is to move only the upper chopstick.”

“Siwoo, why are you worrying about something like this? As long as I can eat properly, isn’t that enough?”

Hwa Nabi’s tone suggested I was overreacting about something trivial, but I was quite serious. It might sound old-fashioned, but when I was a student, you’d get smacked on the back of the head in the cafeteria for using chopsticks in an X shape.

To prevent such unfortunate incidents, I felt the need to teach the proper way to hold chopsticks.

“No, I can’t stand it. I just can’t.”

“What right does Siwoo have to…”

“Are you going to hold your chopsticks like that when eating with my parents too?”

“……”

Indeed, this is fitting for a country where Confucian culture remains strong.

As soon as I mentioned my parents, Hwa Nabi’s attitude became more docile.

She still didn’t look particularly willing, but at least she was making an effort to listen to me.

“Look at my fingers. Can you follow along?”

“…What are we doing, interrupting our meal like this?”

Hwa Nabi grumbled but followed my hand movements.

And predictably, she couldn’t do it properly at all.

Well, I expected as much. Chopstick technique is literally a habit ingrained in the hands, so it’s not something that can be corrected in a day.

I reached out and placed my hand over Hwa Nabi’s. Seeing is believing, and learning through direct physical sensation is much better than verbal instruction.

But Hwa Nabi, misunderstanding something, jumped in surprise and pulled her hand back.

“Why are you so surprised?”

“N-no, Siwoo. Of course I’m surprised! Why, why are you suddenly grabbing the hand of another woman?”

“How are you ‘another woman’? You’re my fiancée.”

I wouldn’t be this meddlesome with someone who wasn’t related to me.

If it’s someone I won’t be facing across the table for meals every day, why would I care if they hold their chopsticks like a knife or in some chaotic way? But Hwa Nabi is different.

Honestly, she’s someone I might be eating with face-to-face every day, and I can’t stand watching someone use chopsticks incorrectly.

“…That’s not what I meant.”

“Never mind, give me your hand.”

As I spoke, my tone became like someone addressing a pet, but Hwa Nabi didn’t seem to mind.

After hesitating for a while, just staring at my outstretched palm, she finally squeezed her eyes shut and carefully placed her hand on mine.

“…Do we really have to do it like this? I’m not a child.”

“You seem like one to me.”

Judging by her reddening face, she at least knows to be embarrassed about not being able to use chopsticks properly.

I slowly moved our overlapping fingers while explaining.

“Now, look. First, place your thumb like this…”

*

Ten minutes later.

I released her hand. We had been holding hands longer than I expected, and my palm was starting to sweat.

“How is it? Do you get the feel of it now?”

“Hmm, I think I understand, but also don’t understand. I’m not sure. Maybe it’s because it’s unfamiliar.”

“Well, you can’t expect to master it on the first try. It takes consistent practice to correct it.”

“Does that mean you’ll keep helping me?”

I nodded at Hwa Nabi’s question. It seems necessary. Correcting habits isn’t as easy as it sounds, and people often give up midway. To increase the success rate, you need someone consistently paying attention.

“Then you’ll have to be by my side whenever I eat.”

“…Is that how it works?”

I don’t think there’s any reason to be attached at the hip like a body pillow, but it is better to have someone supervising if possible.

“I’ll think about it. But, Hwa Nabi, you’re in big trouble now.”

“Why am I suddenly in trouble?”

“You’ll probably think of me every time you use chopsticks from now on.”

This was a kind of curse.

Actually, until I graduated from school, I got annoyed every time I used chopsticks incorrectly because I’d remember the teacher who used to smack the back of my head.

So I said it half-jokingly, half-seriously.

Not understanding my true feelings, Hwa Nabi smiled brightly.

“…I’d like that.”