UR Chapter 91

Chapter 91

“…You should button up properly, I-bom.”

The man slowly reached out, fiddling with the buttons on the pajama shirt. The veins on the back of his neat hand stood out sharply, as if in irritation.

It wasn’t intentional at all. Maybe the button had been loosely fastened, because the one half-caught in the hole popped free with a soft tuk. Depending on how his fingers moved, the button could either come completely undone to reveal bare skin… or be secured tightly shut.

Underneath the loose pants, I-bom’s toes twitched stiffly, trembling from the tension. Time seemed to crawl in that precarious moment where he could do neither one thing nor the other.

“…What are you going to do if your clothes come off while you’re eating?”

His voice swelled rough, as if cracking.

The man, who had only been smiling kindly until now, flinched and drew out his gaze. His hesitant expression—like someone conflicted—carried a subtle tension, lips pressing hard together as though in anguish.

“…It’s fine.”

I-bom’s body jerked slightly. He wasn’t a child, nor was he a fool. In this razor-edged tension, all it would take was a light push for instincts to take over. If he let things flow naturally from here, he’d be swept along completely.

Gripping his chest as if to hold back a heart that threatened to lose control, I-bom looked up at the man. Would he move? It felt like if either of them took even one step, they’d end up baring all their heated skin.

“…Ha.”

The man let out a deep sigh, brows knitting as though pained. The clean lines of his forehead seemed to crumble inward. But his hesitant fingers maintained a polite restraint.

“……”

“I’ll bring you… some warm tea.”

He finished buttoning I-bom’s shirt all the way up, pressing each one firmly, then gave his shoulder a light pat. I-bom’s heart still wouldn’t calm, churning like seasickness.

“……”

I-bom stared seriously at the tea in front of him. Steam curled up from the mug, carrying a strong, bitter scent of mugwort and garlic.

“Uh…”

He didn’t have strong likes or dislikes, but a dog was still a dog. His sensitive nose caught the bitterness so strongly it almost stung. Did tiger beastmen not notice this smell? Pressing his lips together tightly, he asked,

“What… is this?”

“It’s mugwort-garlic tea. Good for preventing colds. You got caught in the rain earlier, right? It warms the body. Go on, drink up.”

I-bom looked up at him with a sulky face. Nothing that was good for the body ever tasted good. Honestly, he didn’t want to drink it.

“Mmm…”

The man pulled a long spoon from a drawer and set it down with a light tap in front of I-bom at the dining table. Blinking, I-bom hesitated.

“Uh…”

“What is it?”

“…Does this taste good?”

He pointed at the mug with a sulky look. Honestly, it didn’t seem like it would, and he thought that if he acted like this, the man might smile like he usually did and say, “If it’s not good, don’t drink it,” before taking it away. But instead of removing the cup, the man pushed it a little closer.

“You don’t drink it for the taste. You drink it because it’s good for you.”

“…Do you drink this often?”

When I-bom asked with a reluctant expression, Beom-ho gave a small shrug.

“Pretty often. Tiger beastmen drink it like coffee… it’s effective. It’ll drive out the cold from your body.”

They say it’s hard to refuse when someone urges you firmly while smiling. After being gently turned down twice, I-bom just blinked and muttered gloomily,

“…It doesn’t look tasty.”

“Can’t drink it? Then just have five sips. Okay?”

“……”

“If you finish it, I’ll give you a candy.”

Grinning, the man tapped I-bom’s nose lightly with a finger. The way he touched him felt like correcting a puppy’s behavior. I-bom rubbed his nose where the man’s finger had been and bit his lip.

…He’s treating me like a kid.

“I’m not a baby. I’m grown up, so you don’t need to give me candy.”

The words came out stiff, his brows drawn tight, without realizing he’d snapped. But the man only smiled, as if taking it as a cute complaint.

“Right, you said you’re not a baby student.”

“……”

“Then you can drink it, right?”

Laughing, the man got up from his seat, as if this outcome had been obvious from the start.

‘Baby student…?’

For some reason, the phrase sounded oddly familiar in his ears.

Is that some trend? I’ve been hearing it a lot.

Rubbing his forehead, I-bom brought the mug to his lips.

“Yes. Of course I can drink it! I was just asking how bitter it is.”

Five sips, my foot. I-bom spoke with forced confidence, then, as if he’d never hesitated, grabbed the mug handle and gulped it down.

The strong bitterness that stung his tongue as the warmth slid down his throat was overwhelming. Tears welled at the corners of his eyes. He thought maybe he shouldn’t have tried to act tough—he should’ve just taken the candy.

* * *

“Let’s eat.”

Just as I-bom was gulping down water to wash away the lingering sting from the mugwort-garlic tea, a wooden tray was set down in front of him with a solid thunk.

“I hope it’s to your taste.”

It looked as if he were sitting in a fine dining restaurant—shiny white rice and a clear beef-and-radish soup were placed neatly before him. The broth was crystal clear, the oil skimmed off cleanly, with slices of translucent radish floating invitingly, making the whole dish look refined.

There were also freshly seasoned kimchi greens, skewered beef patties, nut brittle, and neatly plated mountain greens drizzled with sesame oil. Having cooked for himself at home, I-bom knew these were all dishes that took effort to prepare.

Gulp.

The delicious smell reached his nose, and he swallowed reflexively.

“Wow… what is all this?”

I-bom’s eyes sparkled. After walking around the amusement park in the cold wind, he was more than a little hungry. He shifted in his seat, watching the man’s movements closely.

Despite looking like someone who had never so much as gotten his hands wet, wearing an apron and holding a serious expression made him look like a seasoned chef.

“…How did you make all this so quickly? You didn’t secretly order a full-course set meal, did you?”

It was worlds apart from the simple meals I-bom usually made for I-seol. He took in the neatly plated food before him. To be honest, the skill looked even better than his own—and he’d been handling household cooking since before he finished elementary school.

“Order it? You order something like this from outside?”

“Oh, no. It just looked so perfectly made, I was joking. Haha… really, just a joke.”

“Perfectly? That’s good to hear. They say you eat with your eyes as much as with your mouth.”

“Yeah…”

“Eat before it gets cold. I just made things that come together quickly, so it’s nothing much… Next time, I’ll put in even more effort.”

…Does he even know what ‘effort’ means?

“No, really! This is amazing. Honestly… I’ve never been served a table like this before. I’ll enjoy it.”

With a moved expression, I-bom picked up his spoon. He’d never even gotten a simple bowl of birthday seaweed soup for himself, so he felt a little dazed. He scooped up some clear beef soup and cautiously touched it to his tongue. The savory flavor spread across his palate, making his eyes shine. He quickly covered his mouth in awe.

“Does the seasoning taste right?”

The man suddenly leaned in close, his face coming right beside I-bom’s cheek. His warm breath tickled the fine hairs there, and I-bom blushed as he nodded.

“Y-yes, it’s perfect. H-here, try a bite.”

Ah, right. I should’ve offered first.

Cursing his own rudeness for diving in without thinking, I-bom hurriedly scooped up some soup and clumsily brought it toward the man’s lips.

But—tok!—his rushed movement made the spoon and the man’s mouth misalign, bumping instead. The hot soup sloshed out with a splatter, and I-bom jolted up from his seat in shock.