It took just over an hour to prepare dinner for Seo Nakil.
Looking at what I’d prepared as reciprocation, it really was nothing much. Just doenjang jjigae made by putting in prepared ingredients and boiling them, grilled ham, and fish cakes I’d bought because they were on sale, sliced lengthwise and stir-fried—that was all.
“Your cooking skills are good.”
Watching Seo Nakil’s elegant spooning, I smiled awkwardly.
“Shouldn’t this be considered food preparation rather than cooking?”
I’d just added water and boiled the stew, and the side dishes were finished after trimming and cooking them. The advantage was that there was no way to fail since I wasn’t adding flavor or shaping anything, but the disadvantage was that it was a bit embarrassing to call it cooking since even the rice was instant rice.
“Whatever it is, the fact that you stood in the kitchen for me doesn’t change. Even though I’ve lived here for quite a while, I never thought to use it.”
“When you’re busy, I think you just don’t do it.”
I nodded with sympathy.
“My mother worked at a restaurant for a long time. She often prepared food at home too, and even though I saw things over her shoulder, I’m still awkward at it because I never practiced as a habit.”
“There’s a reason for the saying that practice makes perfect.”
He asked while placing a side dish on top of my rice.
“Your mother must have had a hard time. I heard restaurant work is very difficult.”
“Getting chronic ailments is common. She lives with arthritis and muscle pain. But she liked it. Her pet phrase was that you have to move your body for depression to fall away.”
It was still the same now. Even though she could quit and do other work, the reason she insisted on that job was her personal pride and philosophy that there was an energy that could only be shared through food.
“She’s a diligent person.”
“That’s why I respect her too.”
“This is the first time you’ve talked about your family. Tell me more.”
At that gentle encouragement, I showed a slightly embarrassed smile.
“I guess I live with my adolescent younger sister and mother? Since I have to live in the dorm, it’s been a while since we’ve lived apart. I visit to pay my respects about once or twice a year. Ordinary, right?”
“Should I say it’s ordinary? When your father passed away.”
My movement chewing on grilled ham stopped abruptly.
‘Had I ever mentioned that my father passed away?’
He answered my silent question.
“You probably talked about it in a ‘For Stadium’ interview before. That you lost your father early.”
“Ah, that. The production team did ask me.”
I shrugged and answered.
“But it’s still ordinary. Surprisingly, death is common. Actually, I can manage it reasonably well. Quite a bit of time has passed too.”
“…”
“I feel sad and I miss him. But I still adapted to it. If there’s one fortunate thing, it’s that he didn’t pass away overnight.”
My father died of cancer. As those who leave the world usually do, by the time it was discovered, there was already nothing that could be done.
The only fortune we could enjoy was that we said goodbye over half a year. At least we could attempt to somehow settle what’s called life.
I believe it might have been better than leaving in an instant, better than not being able to hear a single last word. Believing that was also the best I could do.
“There’s a saying that when a father dies, the son becomes the head of the family. But I left home saying I’d become an idol, so I didn’t fulfill that role well. Was becoming a son who requires less attention the best I could do…”
So I’m always sorry, to which Seo Nakil answered in a calm voice.
“You can’t take on the role of someone who’s left. What you’re doing now is enough.”
“Do you think mother and Seoa think that way too?”
“Even if not right now, they’ll come to understand.”
It was comfortable that there was no fussy reaction or pitying gaze that usually follows the mention that my father passed away. Somehow feeling him a bit more comfortable, I recalled his first wish and tried to act a bit more intimately.
“…How about Seo Nakil-ssi?”
Seo Nakil’s movement stopped slightly, surprised by the unexpected form of address.
“Your family being what it is, it wouldn’t have been ordinary, would it?”
“Even if not ordinary, it probably wasn’t much different. All stories of people living are like that.”
Instead of agreeing, I smiled softly. It was a completely unconvincing story coming from someone living in this huge penthouse.
“There’s a similarity with Ijae-ssi. I didn’t have my birth mother while growing up.”
If the person who remarried Ritten Group’s honorary chairman, wasn’t she a fairly famous pottery master?
Come to think of it, I seemed to have seen in an article that she went down to her parents’ home in the provinces to live. They said she hardly interacted with other people and only did creative work. Wondering if that meant she couldn’t live in the main house because she was a second wife, I waited carefully for his explanation.
Seo Nakil smiled softly, noticing the worry mixed in my silence.
“It’s not a family fight. My mother was ill. She suffered brain damage in an accident and can’t remember her family members.”
“…Then not even Seo Nakil-ssi?”
“Her memory level is closer to a young child’s. She couldn’t recall the fact that she had a child. If anything, I lost my mother overnight.”
I became a bit flustered at the story beyond my imagination. I couldn’t even guess how much had happened for him to bring this up so calmly.
“Following the specialist’s opinion that mother and son needed distance, we began living separately. She’s definitely more stable when not mixed with others.”
“Weren’t you disappointed that she doesn’t remember her son?”
“I did misunderstand once, wondering if she wanted to forget me. But I’m more grateful than disappointed. Whatever happened, she survived.”
Because not a single shadow was buried in those words, I realized anew just how much of an adult he was.
Seo Nakil’s story continued throughout washing and cleaning the dishes. While I washed dishes, he said he’d brew tea and filled the pot with water.
“It happened when I was too young, so I don’t have many memories of my mother. I guess that’s fortunate. The only memory that comes to mind is her coming into my room on nights when I tossed and turned and kissing my cheek.”
The single memory he held onto was warmly touching. The image of a mother leaving a kiss on the cheek of a young child curled up in fear of the night seemed to be clearly drawn before my eyes, so I smiled quietly with my hands under running water.
“Is she doing well now?”
“Of course. I visit to pay my respects about twice a year, and she remembers me as a suspiciously kind young man.”
Taking out two cups from the cupboard, Seo Nakil added jokingly.
“But blood is thicker than water after all. She seems to like me more than my brother.”
“Ahaha.”
As I shook off the water on my hands, Seo Nakil handed me an empty teacup as if showing it to me.
“My mother made it. Was it last spring? She set it aside separately saying she should give it to me.”
I looked over the teacup with a surprised expression. The pure white teacup like rice cake dough was tinted with vermilion color only on the rim and handle, which looked like a sunset spreading across a pure white sky.
On the bottom of the teacup was the master’s signature dyed in the same color.
“…She must have made it thinking of you, Bae-u-nim.”
“Do I have this kind of feeling?”
He took the teacup from me and poured tea-steeped water. From the white porcelain placed back in my hands, warm steam rose gently.
“A little.”
I whispered while fingering it.
“Warm, solid, resembling a sunset…”
“…”
“Beautiful.”
The teacup tinted with the warmly dyed sunset color. The traces of the survivor touching my palm. The warmth of the tea water poured inside.
And your eyes conveying all these stories calmly.
Everything was beautiful without exception.
“…”
So I stood slightly on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his cheek. Putting in the wish that he would remember this moment for the rest of his life, like that childhood night memory he’d cherished for a lifetime.
Also wanting to live forever in someone’s memory like that, even though I’d thrown myself away wanting to disappear without a trace.
So I committed a selfish act for the first time in my life.
