CRANK 20

Woo Dobin, who had placed the salad plate on the island counter where I was sitting, used his fork to pick up some salmon and lettuce and brought it close to my mouth. Still distracted by my phone, I subconsciously opened my mouth and accepted it.

“How is it?”

“It’s delici….”

I was about to say it was delicious, but remembering the comment from a moment ago, I clamped my mouth shut. If I say it’s delicious here, does that mean I’m feeling the same way as those fans? Does it mean I’m feeling that same desire to bite him because Woo Dobin is handsome?

“Is it not good?”

“No, no. It’s delicious….”

Woo Dobin smiled and placed the fork in my hand.

“Go ahead and eat. I’m boiling the shabu-shabu broth, so….”

“Uh, yeah….”

Woo Dobin turned his head back to focus on making the broth. I stuffed my mouth with a large piece of salmon and dove back into my search. Delicious…. Delicious…. What on earth does it mean?

Then, one answer on a Q&A site caught my eye.

1. A guy in my class told me I looked delicious—what does that mean?
2. It is sexual harassment.

“Wha-?”

“Sunbae-nim?”

I hurled the fork away violently. Sexual harassment? All those comments were sexual harassment?

The user who answered the question was a ‘Sun God’ level user, and there was even a thank-you note from the original poster saying, ‘That’s amazing! I’m in awe of your knowledge.’ The credibility skyrocketed.

“Why are you acting like that?”

Woo Dobin set down the kitchen knife he was using to slice vegetables and approached me. Looking at his innocent, naive face, I felt a bit stunned.

So, saying something is ‘delicious’ meant… that kind of delicious? He’d said he didn’t know what it meant either. He didn’t even know he was being sexually harassed in the comments, foolishly thinking he was just a ‘king of communication’… With a sense of pity, I patted Woo Dobin on the shoulder.

“Sunbae-nim?”

“Just finish making the shabu-shabu…. No, I’ll help you.”

Shaking my head, I shoved my phone into my pajama pocket.

To think it had such a meaning. It was the first time Woo Dobin, who was just innocently brewing kelp broth, looked so pitiful.

While rummaging through the Blu-rays Woo Dobin had brought, I picked out a Christmas movie I’d enjoyed a long time ago. It was an animation about a cat left home alone at Christmas who goes on an adventure through the house, discovers a basement it had never seen before, and meets a Santa crying down there.

Of course, there were many other masterpieces among the Blu-rays that could have been helpful for [Pale Death], but I didn’t pick them because it was obvious I wouldn’t be able to concentrate since I’d be busy eating.

Woo Dobin found a portable induction stove somewhere in my house that I didn’t even know existed. He set it up in the center of the table and placed the shabu-shabu pot on it. Then, he took out the sake he’d brought last time and poured it into a decanter that, also, I didn’t know we had. It was a carafe with a hollowed-out section to hold ice, keeping the sake chilled.

“You have everything at your place, Sunbae-nim.”

“Tell me about it. That’s what I want to say. Did you get that as a housewarming gift?”

“From whom?”

“That’s what I don’t know.”

What does it matter who? It was a gift perfect for someone like me who loves to drink, so I was just glad to be able to use it in its rightful place.

Finally, Woo Dobin quickly refilled the salmon salad I’d half-eaten as if it were brand new.

“Starting it now?”

“Yes.”

Instead of Woo Dobin, who was holding the bottle to refill my glass, I played the Blu-ray. The movie began with a scene of a cute white cat sleeping in an empty mansion.

“This is cute no matter how many times I watch it.”

“Do you like cats?”

Woo Dobin whispered. He’d done it earlier, too—it was very good movie etiquette. The only drawback was that there was no one around now who needed us to keep quiet.

“You can speak loudly. There’s only us here.”

“…Only us?”

“Huh?”

Woo Dobin wore a somewhat impudent expression. It was an expression that really could only be described as impudent. Or perhaps, seductive.

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

“Just, I thought you should be a little careful.”

“Of what?”

“The nuance is a bit…. Never mind. So, do you like cats?”

Woo Dobin turned his gaze toward the screen. He was clearly changing the subject, but I didn’t bother to press him. Pressing him wouldn’t do me any good.

“I like them. I like all furry animals.”

“I’m a furry animal, too.”

I looked at Woo Dobin with a look of disgust.

“How can you say things like that as if you’re just breathing?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just like that.”

“And if we’re splitting hairs, you’re not an animal….”

“Not an animal?”

“Never mind.”

I was about to say he was like a beast, but I clamped my mouth shut. It was obvious Woo Dobin would bite into that. He would probably bring up something like, ‘Why am I like a beast? I’ll show you what a real beast is,’ or some nonsense like that.

“What is it?”

“Just… you… whether you like dogs or cats.”

I’d thrown him the second greatest dilemma after ‘Who do you like more, Mom or Dad?’, but Woo Dobin answered without hesitation.

“I liked dogs before, but these days, I like cats.”

“You’re very firm about that? Why?”

“Can I tell you?”

“Why are you asking if you can tell me?”

“If I say it, I think you’ll… not like it very much.”

Not like it? I wasn’t some kind of dog-dictator—why would I have any reason to dislike his preference changing from dogs to cats?

“What is it? Don’t leave me hanging.”

“Because of you, Sunbae-nim….”

“Huh?”

“I started liking them because you played a cat.”

“…You’re insane.”

“See? I told you you wouldn’t like it.”

Woo Dobin was talking about that very drama that earned me the title of ‘Face Genius.’ That drama where I played a pitiful cat-human.

I felt disgusted for a moment, but soon burst into a hollow laugh. It wasn’t exactly bad to have Woo Dobin constantly appealing to me that he was my fan.

“Now, whenever I see a cat, I think of you, so I can’t just walk past them.”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

Woo Dobin shrugged his shoulders, filled his own glass, and held it toward me.

“Let’s toast.”

“Doesn’t suit you.”

Though I scolded him, I clinked my glass against his. There was a clear, ringing sound of glass hitting glass.

The sake was clean at first, almost overly light, but ended with a plum flavor that was perfectly to my taste. If it weren’t for Woo Dobin, I would have let out an exclamation of delight, it was that good.

“Is it delicious?”

“Yeah, it’s delici…ous.”

I was about to answer without thinking, but I became solemn remembering the sexual harassment from earlier. He’ll probably never know. What that word really means.

“Hey, why do you even use social media? You don’t seem to know how.”

“Why? I’m good at it…. I even do live broadcasts…. And I have a lot of followers. They leave a lot of comments, too.”

Woo Dobin protested as if he were aggrieved. What good does that do? Not even knowing what those comments mean. I shook my head.

“Why don’t you do it, Sunbae-nim?”

“Well, for me…. I don’t know, it’s awkward. I don’t have any talent for that sort of thing.”

“‘That sort of thing’?”

“I’m bad at taking pictures. I once joined that ‘Lonely Room’ or whatever it was because they said it was a trend.”

“Ah, that place where fans trade photos?”

“Yeah. I went in there and took a selfie to verify it was me… and they told me to throw my camera away.”

Pfft, Woo Dobin burst into laughter.

“I think I know which photo that is. You took it inside a van, right?”

“…You know everything.”

“Well, compared to how you look in person. Actually, no—it’s just that your selfies are really not great compared to photos others take of you.”

Not great? I glared at Woo Dobin, wondering if he really had to go that far.

“How good are you at taking them, anyway?”

“At the very least, I’m not bad enough to have my camera thrown away. You saw it earlier, didn’t you? My feed.”

Racking my memory, I think there were many selfies he took himself, not just photos taken by others. The composition was varied, and his expressions were natural.

“Could it be that you’re born with the talent for selfies?”

“Sunbae-nim…. Selfies aren’t a talent, they’re effort.”

“Effort?”

“Don’t think you’ll get a good one by taking one or two shots; you have to think you’ll get one out of dozens.”

Woo Dobin wore a very serious face. Dozens? For me, who finds it burdensome to even take one or two, it was too difficult a homework assignment.

“Shall I teach you?”

Woo Dobin’s eyes sparkled as he took his phone out of his pocket.

“…Forget it. Why would you teach me?”

“Aww, why not? It’s good to learn.”

Woo Dobin, who had come next to me in the blink of an eye, pressed his shoulder firmly against mine.

“Think of how happy your fans would be.”