Defective Banana - Chapter 26

Ara, genuinely pleased, raised a hand and flashed a wide grin.

“Unnie, have fun! I’ll just wander around the neighborhood a bit.”

“Yeah? Okay then. I’ll bring back something tasty. Let’s meet back here around five, alright?”

“Sounds good!”

Donghee, slipping on her shoes, suddenly glanced back toward the room her son had gone into, muttering under her breath.

“Why is it so quiet in there? Is he already asleep?”

“Beats me. He must be tired.”

“If he needs anything, I’m sure he’ll call. Anyway, I’m off.”

“Bye, unnie.”

As Donghee disappeared with her four friends, waving goodbye, Ara turned around, glanced once toward the room at the end of the hall, and sent Seohyuk a quick message.

[I’m going for a quick walk around the neighborhood. Take it easy!]

She carefully placed the dress shoes she wore from Seoul inside the hallway, swapped into the basic house slippers the guesthouse provided—striped and very comfy—and headed out. As someone who regularly lived in slippers, they were a familiar joy.

Just as she stood, brushing down the loose brown outfit she’d borrowed, an alert chimed. She pulled out her phone from her pocket. A message from Kang Seohyuk.

[The clothes don’t fit. Hold on a sec. I’ll come with you.]

She was about to text back when—creak—the door opened, and there he was.

He stepped out wearing a terribly short, brown matching set that barely grazed his knees and elbows. It looked like a modern, ill-fitting hanbok, and Ara couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Haa… Is this really okay?”

His face was dead serious, like he was suffering a great injustice. Ara laughed so hard she doubled over, wiping tears from her eyes.

“I’ll just go alone, it’s fine.”

“Why? Take me with you.”

Mask on, Seohyuk found a matching pair of striped slippers and stepped out, too. He headed straight to the outdoor faucet, got his hands wet, and slicked his side-parted bangs forward to hide his face.

“How do I look?” he asked, turning around.

It wasn’t half bad. Ara gave him a slight nod—it’d do.

“Alright, let’s go. But we’re sticking to quiet streets, okay?”

The brown outfit only made things worse—he looked like a giant golden retriever trotting loyally behind his owner. Worse, they were dressed like a couple. Same outfit. Same slippers. The longer they walked, the more Ara regretted letting him come.

Ugh, I didn’t think about the outfits. I need to be careful…

Keeping a step ahead of him, Ara pointed at a nearby alley while checking her phone.

“Two blocks down, take a right, then a left—there’s a café there. Let’s get drinks to go. I’m getting iced coffee. You?”

“Same. Iced Americano.”

As he answered, he moved closer and casually grabbed her hand, locking fingers. Startled, Ara pulled away quickly and took another step away.

“I told you not to act all lovey-dovey. What if someone recognizes you?”

“There’s no one else around! Can’t I hold your hand just for a second?”

“Nope. Not even a second.”

“Wow… that hurts.”

Kang Seohyuk was a professional sulker.

With those good looks and puppy-dog eyes, he laid it on thick. Ara sighed and reached her hand out.

“Fine. Just until we hit that corner. That’s it.”

Even in that brief moment, he couldn’t stop stroking her fingers with his thumb.

After a block, another alley came into view, and Ara gently slipped her hand away and walked ahead—her body language making it clear. Time to be careful.

A bit further in, they spotted a round sign for a café. Peeking over the stone wall, they saw warm yellow lights glowing softly through the windows—it looked cozy and inviting.

Inside the front gate, the stone path to the door was lined with blooming white daisies, swaying gently.

“Wow, so pretty!”

Ara stopped to take a photo of the view with her phone. She pressed the shutter twice, and just as she lowered the phone, Seohyuk suddenly hugged her from behind, raised her phone, slipped his mask down, and snapped a selfie with her.

“What was that?” she asked, startled.

“Isn’t this what dating’s supposed to be? I wanted to capture the moment.”

Biting her lip, Ara tapped the photo to check it. Their faces were close together, both grinning—his smile was so dazzling her heart started pounding.

So this is what dating feels like… kind of exciting. Kind of fun. She glanced at him and chuckled, slipping her phone into her pocket.

They followed the path into the café.

“Iced Americano, two to go,” Ara ordered, reaching for her card.

But before she could pay, a black card appeared beside her.

“Use this, please,” Seohyuk said casually.

This guy…

A Black Card—pretty much a symbol of insane wealth or elite status. Only the top 1% got those. And here he was, waving it around like it was nothing.

The staff took the card, stealing glances at the man behind Ara, obviously curious. Ara bit her lip, feeling a nervous sweat.

A guy in weird cropped hanbok and striped slippers holding a Black Card? Anyone would be suspicious. The employee kept eyeing him as if trying to figure out who he was.

If he got recognized here, that was it. The rumors he was in Jeonju might already be circulating—and if he got exposed now, things would get messy fast.

Ara quickly snatched the card back from the staff and shoved it into Seohyuk’s hands, pushing him toward the door.

“Cousin? Could you wait outside for a bit? I’ll bring the coffee out. Okay? Please?”

She enunciated every word like she was scolding a child.

Seohyuk, blinking, turned to look at her.

“Huh? Me? Cousin?”

“Yes. Out. Wait. Now.”

When she shot him a sharp look, he reluctantly shuffled out—only to turn back around, pointing at himself and silently mouthing, “Cousin? Seriously? Me?”

Ara ignored him and returned to the counter, waiting for the drinks.

“Iced Americano, two to go,” the staff said cheerfully.

Relieved there were no more questions, she grabbed both cups and stepped outside.

Scanning for him, she spotted Seohyuk seated like a cover model at a wrought-iron table near the daisies, legs crossed, scrolling on his phone.

Even in that ridiculous outfit, he looked amazing. Tall, lean, absurdly good-looking—it was dangerous. She needed to get him out of here fast.

“Come on. Let’s go,” she said, handing him a cup and gesturing with her head.

But he just sat there, sipping and grinning.

“I’ll get up if you call me oppa.”

Ara snorted and walked past him without a word. He pouted, then stood up to follow her anyway.

The two of them wandered through the quieter parts of the town, iced coffee in hand, steering clear of crowded areas. Eventually, they stumbled upon a tiny accessories shop and stopped to browse.

It was a charming little place filled with traditional Korean trinkets—colorful norigae, butterfly hairpins, lacquered rings and bracelets, and embroidered ribbons.

Ara’s eyes lit up at the row of binyeo (traditional hairpins) displayed neatly in a glass case. They came in all designs—dragons, phoenixes, blossoms…

“These are so pretty.”

She reached out for one in particular—a silver hairpin with tiny blush-pink cherry blossoms at the tip. A soft blue jade was nestled at the center, creating a delicate, harmonious contrast.

At the end, thin silver strands hung like willow branches, adorned with pearls and a dainty butterfly that swung gently.

“Excuse me, can I try this one?” she asked the owner.

“Of course! Go ahead,” the owner said, smiling warmly.

Ara took the hairpin, gathered her long hair, twisted it up, and smoothly pinned it in place like a pro. It held perfectly, swaying slightly with the weight of the pearls.

Whenever she worked on paintings after washing her hair, she’d use a long brush to pin it up just like this. She was used to the motion, and it showed.

Admiring the result in the mirror, she smiled. Just then, she caught Seohyuk watching with wide eyes, clearly impressed. He raised a hand to clap—then stopped halfway.

Without a word, he pulled out his wallet, slid out the Black Card again, and held it forward.

“I’ll take this one, please.”