It was a tough decision.
[ sj ] Is there anything you can’t eat?
[I eat everything except what I haven’t tried before.]
[ sj ] How about this place? (Links) (Links)
As soon as the “1” disappeared from the sent message, two links arrived immediately. The first was a simple pasta place, while the second was a Mexican restaurant. Just from the photos, it was clear how clean and well-maintained both places were.
‘Both look good.’ That was Sa-yoon’s thought as he pressed the back button to return to the chat window.
“What the…?”
While he was checking out the first and second restaurants, at least five more links had arrived. The menus were all different, but they had a similar vibe to the previous places—spotless, refined, and atmospheric. In other words, they were the kind of places couples would go on a date.
[Seriously? You want the two of us to go to a place like this?]
[ sj ] What’s wrong with two guys going together?
He had meant it as a considerate remark, but the response he got was both innocent and brutally straightforward.
Sa-yoon raised a finger and scratched just below his eye. Did Sa Shin-jae still think he was gay? That didn’t seem likely—he had been way too sure of himself that day.
He had even freaked out, insisting that Sa-yoon was hitting on him. Things escalated until Sa-yoon, just to mess with him, decided to show him what real flirting looked like. That, of course, led to a full-blown fight… then saving each other… then making up…
Now that he thought about it, the past few days had been ridiculously chaotic. Who knew what kind of shift had taken place in Sa Shin-jae’s mind without him even realizing it?
[ sj ] Other people won’t see it as weird, so it’s fine. As long as you don’t start having strange thoughts, there’s no problem.
[ ? ]
[ Misunderstanding …]
Look at this. Something definitely changed after that day… But why is he acting like it’s nothing now?
[ sj ] I know you’re looking, sunbae.
Even more links kept pouring in one after another.
Sa-yoon never had much of an appetite. Aside from cold noodles, he had never experienced that sudden, overwhelming craving people talked about—like a divine revelation striking them out of nowhere. In fact, he couldn’t recall a time when he had ever actively thought about wanting to eat something.
Because of that, when choosing a place to eat, he usually just walked into whatever was nearby or did a quick search on the spot.
As someone who never planned ahead, he found this whole situation surprising, a bit fascinating, and, in the end, a little exhausting from the endless stream of food pictures.
[Is there anywhere you want to go?]
What he meant was, Stop sending links and just pick a place you want to go. Sa-yoon had agreed to grab a meal, but he hadn’t expected it to turn into such a serious plan. At most, he figured they’d just grab some barbecue near campus or hit up a bar.
[ sj ] You’re the one treating me, so we should go where you want to eat.
[I’m fine with anything…]
[ sj ] Sunbae, do you not have any opinions of your own?
“What a brat.”
Even if he had softened up a little, Sa Shin-jae was still Sa Shin-jae.
[I like restaurants picked by picky people—the kind that never disappoint.]
[ sj ] ? Why are you picking a fight again? You diss me like it’s second nature.
Every restaurant he had sent had reviews well into the four-digit range. It was hilarious how he kept stubbornly insisting he wasn’t picky when all he did was send a carefully curated list of top-rated places.
[ sj ] Then at least pick a type of cuisine first. Korean, Western, Japanese, or Chinese?
Even after Sa-yoon surrendered, his opponent remained relentless. The questions only grew more detailed until he gave a proper answer. In the end, after reviewing at least five more links, they finally settled on a restaurant.
After nearly an hour of discussion, the final menu choice was sushi.
***
“Right this way, please.”
As soon as they stepped inside, the staff member at the entrance naturally asked for the reservation name. The moment he realized it was a fully reservation-only restaurant, Sa-yoon struggled to keep his surprise from showing.
Without thinking, he gave Sa Shin-jae’s name, and after a quick check on the tablet, the staff began leading the way.
Still feeling a bit dazed, he followed along, noting how the hallway was longer than expected. The walls, covered in muted green wallpaper, were adorned with traditional ink paintings of serene landscapes, adding to the refined atmosphere.
“If you step inside here, please.”
“Thank you.”
Beyond the sliding door the staff opened for them was a traditional floor-seating room. Inside, Shin-jae was already waiting.
“You’re here?”
“Oh, hey. Sorry, I’m a little late.”
Sa-yoon took a seat across from them. Even the wet towels set out for them were different from the usual ones at regular restaurants—they were thick, luxurious hand towels rather than disposable wipes.
“How’s your hand?”
Sa Shin-jae asked after noticing him struggling to wipe with one hand.
“It’s a bit inconvenient when I wash up, but it’s fine.”
In reality, it wasn’t fine. The swelling had only gotten worse after a day, and now even the slightest movement sent pain shooting through his hand, making it nearly impossible to do anything.
Not just basic daily tasks like washing his face or brushing his teeth—even lying down and scrolling through his phone required an extra hand. He was lucky he’d played games on the first day. After briefly explaining his situation to 44, he’d been logging in just to check attendance for the past few days.
Sa-yoon didn’t feel the need to go into detail, so he tried to steer the conversation elsewhere.
“Shouldn’t we order our food?”
But there were no menus—none on the table, none underneath, none on the walls. Usually, a place like this would have a menu booklet at least.
“I already ordered. You have to place your order when making the reservation here.”
“Must be a popular spot.”
He had never seen a place that specialized in a single dish and wasn’t good.
At that, Sa Shin-jae smiled—subtly different from the usual fake expressions he put on.
“Why are you smiling?”
“No reason. It is a popular spot.”
Honestly, looking back, was there even a single bad restaurant among the links he had sent? Sa-yoon simply nodded in understanding and took a sip of the chilled green tea.
After the tea, they were served steamed egg custard. The small portion barely took three spoonfuls to finish. Strangely enough, even with the door closed, the timing was perfect—another small plate arrived immediately after. Three slices of sashimi were neatly arranged on it.
Huh, they serve sashimi before sushi? At the time, he simply thought the place was generous.
Not long after, the door opened again, and the staff entered with their food. On a small wooden board, there were exactly two pieces of sushi. The server carefully placed a board in front of each of them, explained the type of fish, and then stepped back.
Sa-yoon’s eyes wavered as he took in the sight. They had settled on sushi when he was barely awake, and after choosing the cuisine, he hadn’t even bothered to click on most of the links Sa Shin-jae had sent.
To him, sushi was just a piece of fish placed on rice seasoned with vinegar—nothing more, nothing less.
I should’ve checked more carefully. He had dismissed all sushi as being the same, and now he was regretting it.
He had never been to a place like this before, but just from the atmosphere at the entrance and the way the meal was served course by course, it was obvious—this wasn’t just any regular sushi restaurant.
How much does this place even cost…?
Still, that wasn’t his biggest concern at the moment. There was something else he was more curious about.
“Shin-jae, I have a question.”
“What is it?”
“Do they serve soba at the end?”
Hearing the hesitant question, Sa Shin-jae’s expression turned unreadable for a moment before he suddenly burst into laughter—a cool, refreshing sound that suited the summer perfectly.
“They do. You get to choose between soba and udon later.”
Sa-yoon nodded, and Shin-jae picked up his chopsticks. Taking that as his cue, Sa-yoon also lifted one of the two delicate pieces in front of him and popped it into his mouth.
“…What the… Why is this so… good?”
At a glance, it looked no different from the sushi he usually ate. But the moment it hit his tongue, the rice effortlessly broke apart, and the fish melted like butter.
His previous assumption that all sushi is the same instantly crumbled. Eyes widening in surprise, he turned to find Shin-jae watching him.
“Is it good?”
“It’s amazing. You picked a great place.”
When he gave a thumbs-up, Shin-jae smiled again—this time, it wasn’t his usual smirk but a genuinely pleased expression.
“As expected, a picky eater never chooses a bad restaurant.”
“Why do you always have to pick a fight after eating?”
“I’m not. That was a compliment. Oh, right—how’s practice going?”
“Same as always.”
“No struggles?”
“It’s only five lines. What’s there to struggle with?”
…Well, he wasn’t wrong. The response was so brutally logical that Sa-yoon fell silent. This time, Shin-jae was the one to change the topic.
“So, did you bring the synopsis?”
“Huh? Oh—huh?”
“Your graduation project. You said you’d show me the synopsis over dinner.”
Sa-yoon had been so caught up in this whole new world of sushi that he completely forgot. But now that Shin-jae had set the stage, he quickly pulled the neatly organized script from his bag and handed it over.
As Shin-jae flipped through the pages, Sa-yoon picked up his remaining piece of sushi and ate it, then stared at the now-empty wooden board.
He could tell it was white fish, but he had no idea what kind. If another restaurant sold it, he’d definitely want to try it again. Would they let him see the menu if he asked?
While he was lost in thought, Shin-jae reached the last page. Since it was a script for a short film under 15 minutes, the synopsis itself wasn’t very long.
“So, it’s a solo performance?”
