This World is too Cruel to Men

The reason I called her over was simple.

As you know, danger is best served shared.

Well, my mom said the kids were hungry, and she wouldn’t be the type to get furious over something like that… but still, you never know.

‘Anyway…’

I’ve started this, but what should I feed her?

Since I can’t use fire or knives, the menu options are naturally limited.

If I could use fire, I would have cooked a delicious bowl of ramen for her.

If I could have added some rice balls, even if Gimbap was too much, it would have been perfect.

Wait a minute.

‘Rice balls?’

Rice balls, huh?

Not bad.

I nodded to myself, thinking it was quite a suitable menu when I heard small footsteps padding from behind.

After a long silence, did she finally get up and follow me?

She followed me as I said, but perhaps because she didn’t know why I called her or what I was going to do…

Savoring the hesitant aura emanating from behind, I glanced up towards the sink.

And then I gave up.

I could probably reach it if I stood on tiptoe, but she couldn’t.

And I didn’t want to bother dragging the chair attached to the table over to use as a step stool.

So—

“Hey, put these on.”

Instead of washing my hands at the sink, I pulled out a pair of vinyl gloves from the drawer next to it and held them out to the kid, no, Yun-Seo.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

‘Strange.’

Yun-Seo thought it was strange.

The rustling sound every time she moved her hands, the gloves she somehow ended up wearing, and the culprit who made her wear them.

What was he doing, moving around so busily?

He dragged the chair to the refrigerator, grunting, then used it as a step stool to practically dive headfirst inside.

It reminded her of an ostrich she saw on TV once.

A terrified ostrich, hiding its head in a hole at the appearance of a ferocious predator.

‘Stupid.’

Hiding your head doesn’t mean your whole body is hidden.

While Yun-Seo was thinking this, Dokgun, who had climbed onto the chair and stuck himself inside the refrigerator, pulled something out.

And it was only natural that Yun-Seo’s face crumpled when she saw what he was holding.

It was a container of stir-fried anchovies, which she hated.

She hated anchovies.

They were creepy. Their bodies were tiny, but their eyes were big, disproportionately large, and that made them seem even creepier.

So she was frowning slightly when—

“What? Do you hate anchovies?”

Dokgun’s voice suddenly rang out.

She couldn’t help but flinch in surprise.

How did he know that when he wasn’t even looking at her?

But what bothered her more was the strange hint of amusement in his voice.

Was he making fun of her for being seven years old and still picky like a baby, unable to eat anchovies?

Actually, Dokgun wasn’t making fun of her.

He just thought it was cute that a seven-year-old might not like them… but from Yun-Seo’s perspective, everything seemed negative.

She had been grumpy ever since the sudden move that forced her to leave all her friends behind.

“…You don’t even have any friends.”

She muttered it softly, then immediately regretted it.

“Huh? What did you say?”

Dokgun’s voice was right in front of her.

She couldn’t help but be startled.

When did he get down from the chair?

Did he hear what I said?

The thought made her heart pound.

What if he gets angry?

What if he tells me to leave?

Dad isn’t home yet… Would she have to wait outside until he came?

The outside… was scary.

It was already dark, and her mom and dad always told her there were a lot of bad adults out there.

Should she apologize now?

‘But…’

He teased me first.

As she thought this and cautiously lifted her head to gauge Dokgun’s reaction, she saw him placing the container of stir-fried anchovies he had brought from the refrigerator on the table where she was sitting.

The moment she saw that, her intention to apologize vanished completely.

Did he expect her to eat that?

Because of the… rumbling sound earlier?

If so, he was definitely stupid.

Stir-fried anchovies are a side dish.

And side dishes are meant to be eaten with rice.

Isn’t that how it is at kindergarten and at home?

But he just brought the side dish.

‘Stupid…’

And judging by his expression, he must not have heard what she muttered earlier.

So she didn’t have to apologize, right?

While Yun-Seo was thinking this, Dokgun made several trips back and forth between the table and the refrigerator.

From Yun-Seo’s perspective, it looked like he was just grabbing whatever he felt like, but in reality, he was carefully selecting ingredients.

Once he had gathered the ingredients for rice balls, he placed the last item on the table and turned towards the cupboard next to the sink.

He took a shiny stainless steel bowl and a spatula from the sink, then scooped a generous amount of rice from the rice cooker into the bowl.

He did this completely oblivious to Yun-Seo watching him with puzzled eyes.

Anyway, after successfully securing all the ingredients for the rice balls, Dokgun started to sprinkle sesame oil and sesame salt into the bowl filled with rice.

Watching him, Yun-Seo thought once again:

He’s really strange.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

‘Is this enough?’

Dokgun stirred the contents of the bowl with the spatula, mixing the sesame oil and sesame salt into the steaming white rice.

After a while, feeling his arm starting to ache, he stopped.

He scooped up a small amount of the rice with the spatula and tasted it.

‘Hmm.’

Not bad.

To be honest, it was good enough to eat as is.

He had added the ingredients based on intuition, but it was adequately salty and savory.

‘Ah, I want Bibimbap…’

He could have added the bracken salad he’d skipped, worried the kid wouldn’t like it, then mixed it all with a big dollop of Gochujang.

It would have been delicious.

A fried egg on top would have been the perfect finishing touch.

But since this was for a seven-year-old, it was best to avoid spicy flavors. He decided to satisfy his craving later. Maybe he could ask his mom to make some Bibimbap.

Anyway, the rice, which would be the base of the rice balls, seemed well mixed, so it was time to start making the actual rice balls.

‘Before that…’

He put on the vinyl gloves and carefully dipped his hand into the bowl to check the temperature.

Children’s skin was delicate and could be easily burned.

He was doing all this to survive, but he couldn’t risk burning her just for a meal.

The rice was pleasantly warm.

It would be even cooler by the time he gave it to her.

It would cool down further while he mixed in the other ingredients.

‘Alright, then…’

First, this.

He opened the container of stir-fried anchovies with a snap.

Yun-Seo, who had been watching him with wary eyes, frowned slightly.

She really didn’t like stir-fried anchovies, huh?

Honestly, he wasn’t surprised. It was rarer to find a seven-year-old who wasn’t picky.

Just like everyone had their own preferences, seven-year-olds had their own tastes too.

“You really do hate stir-fried anchovies, huh?”

He said so, and—

“N-No, I don’t!”

Apparently not.

Her tone was quite vehement, as if her pride had been hurt.

Even though she was only seven in the eyes of adults, did she not want to appear picky?

Anyway… he was going to leave them out if she didn’t like them, but since she said she did, it was okay to add them.

‘Stir-fried anchovies in rice balls? I can’t resist.’

Anyone who’s tried it knows.

The sensation of the small, crispy fried anchovies being crushed between your teeth along with the rice grains.

Of course, large anchovies wouldn’t do.

Only stir-fried anchovies made with fingernail-sized anchovies were worthy of becoming one with rice balls.

‘I should add a lot.’

He didn’t just dump the entire contents of the container into the bowl.

There were also small green peppers mixed in with the anchovies, which could add an unintended spiciness.

If he was eating it alone, he wouldn’t have cared, but… this was for a seven-year-old.

So he carefully picked out only the anchovies and added them to the bowl before moving on to the next ingredient.

Next was the pickled radish salad.

Of course, it wasn’t ordinary pickled radish salad.

This was made with dried pickled radish.

If he added this?

The crunchy texture would be fantastic.

And then, he sprinkled in the criminally delicious Furikake, designed by numerous experts to entice children who refused to eat…

‘And to finish it off…’

He sprinkled the sweet, salty, and crispy dried seaweed flakes over the top and mixed everything well.

And thus, it was complete.

The ultimate rice ball.

Could even a kid, whose default setting was tsundere, resist the ultimate rice ball?

Yun-Seo, who had been looking at the contents of the bowl with an expression akin to someone staring at a pizza topped with pineapple when he added the anchovies, now had her eyes darting back and forth uncertainly.

It was as if she was wavering between “There’s no way stir-fried anchovies in rice balls can be good!” and “But… it looks delicious.”

Her eyes were like that, and her mouth was slightly open, as if she was about to drool.

Perhaps because of that, Yun-Seo’s stomach, which had been quiet since she sent him the signal earlier, rumbled loudly once again.

Growwwwwl

She must have been embarrassed to have let him hear that not once, but twice, because her face turned bright red.

He held out the bowl to her.

“Hey.”

He called out to her, trying to maintain the most indifferent expression he could muster. Her downcast head slowly lifted.

“Do you know how to make rice balls?”

“…Nuh.”

“What?”

“…No.”

“Really? I learned at kindergarten… Want me to teach you?”

Perhaps her body was more honest than her words.

She hesitated, her face flushed, as if nodding would mean admitting defeat.

But unable to resist the delicious aroma tickling her nose, Yun-Seo slowly nodded.