People and People
Even with several heads put together, no one could find a way forward. The days simply slipped by, empty and endless.
Looking for a solution after closing up shop had become routine. And today, once again, nothing of substance was said—only the usual talk of whatever was going on around them.
"I heard on the way over that they've finally started construction on the Youth Mall."
"Ah, I saw that coming in, too."
"Looks like they're building it properly. Well, they did put on a good show at the competition."
"It'll look pretty sharp once it's finished."
"Right?"
"Feeling regretful?"
"Me? No way! I'm fired up thinking about how we're going to beat them."
"Haha. That's the spirit."
Word was that the Youth Mall had entered full-scale remodeling. A notice had gone up on the board, too.
"There's a notice up here as well. A little over a month left."
"That's not much time."
"Isn't it? Though they always post it on the website and stick it on the board, too."
"Being thorough, maybe?"
"True enough. Probably only feels annoying because we don't want to look at it. Am I being too honest?"
"Honest is good. Haha."
About a month from now. When that day came, the Food Truck Zone—the place where the first memories of my business were rooted—would disappear.
In its place, landscaping features for the existing park would go up. The notice even carefully mentioned that, as part of the environmental improvement project, they would also put up directory maps for the Youth Mall.
This mayor does know how to get things done.
Separate from how badly things were going for me, the measures themselves didn't look half bad. Once this entrance—one of the two into the food alley—was cleaned up, the city stood to gain quite a lot.
"Still, the mayor here seems pretty competent, doesn't he?"
"Competent? Then why did he drop Boss Kim?"
"Come on, that detail might never have reached his desk. And votes might have mattered just then."
"Votes? What votes?"
"The owners in this food alley all live around here, right? We don't—not yet. So where do you think the votes are?"
"You're right. We don't live here yet. No votes for us."
There was nothing to take offense at. Looking after the food alley first, rather than us, might not have been a bad call at all. I took it in stride.
The problem wasn't the Youth Mall, already decided. Once this area was redeveloped, it could even work in favor of people like us trying to do business nearby. There was no need to see it as purely bad news.
The real problem was elsewhere.
There simply aren't any shop spaces left.
The closer we looked at Shinsigaji, the more the available spots vanished. Even the location we'd first turned down had already been leased out, we were told.
As the buzz around "Jang Sa-jang Street" grew louder, more and more prospective shop owners had started showing up. Forget a decent location—we were starting to worry whether doing business here would even be possible.
At this rate, do we have to leave?
It wasn't as if we couldn't make it somewhere else. The other owners would go along with it, I was sure. But if we had a choice, I wanted to stay in a place we'd already grown attached to. So yes—it burned a little.
How was I supposed to settle that unease?
"Alright. Anyway, I'm heading out first again today."
Business had been over for a while. Jinwoo had finished his shift and gone into the library. I figured I'd take a walk.
"Heading out where? You're going to wander Shinsigaji again, aren't you?"
"Wow. If you ever quit business, you should become a fortune-teller!"
"Haha. That needs a shop space too!"
"Shop space. You're right—you do need a space. Anyway, I'll take a look around today."
"Alright. Have a good walk."
The destination was, as always, Shinsigaji. Lately it had become the place I visited most. Boss Jang and the coffee shop owner were the same.
"Not coming along today?"
"I've got a new coffee bean delivery coming in. Haha."
"Got it. See you tomorrow, then!"
"Yeah! See you tomorrow!"
"See you tomorrow!"
I'd wondered why they weren't falling in beside me—turns out they both had things to do. From the look of it, Boss Jang was off to pick up new stock as well.
Alone for the first time in a while.
I walked forward in a daze. Just walking emptied out the mind, and a stroll was a pretty good way to shake off stress.
"Tsk. Feeling weirdly gloomy today, though."
But today was different. People say the character for "person"—人—is shaped the way it is because human beings can't stand alone; they lean on each other to live. After walking together every day, walking alone just felt dull.
Maybe that was why. This time, instead of combing every corner for a space, I simply focused on going forward.
And so I reached the far end of Shinsigaji, where the new district had been built on a fairly large scale. Out at the edge, I could still see places that hadn't finished developing—or hadn't been developed at all.
Abandoned factories?
Right. This whole area had been redeveloped from old factory grounds. I'd heard this city used to be lined with small plants, once upon a time. Places where owners' passion had once burned hot now carried the quiet dust of years.
I was looking them over carefully as I walked in.
"Elder?"
"Oh. You! What brings you out here?"
"Just out for a walk. Haha."
There he was. The elder of fine bearing was not alone today, either. He had his wife's hand held firmly in his, a lovely sight.
"Out for a walk yourselves?"
"That we are. Heh. Didn't you say getting out for walks often is good for you? Someone told me that, so of course I have to keep my word!"
"The night air's cold today—are you alright?"
"I'm fine. He holds my hand tight so I won't get cold."
"Heh. You don't have to go saying things like that."
"Oh, come on. He's looking after you. Are you embarrassed?"
"Ahem. No. Not at all."
He was embarrassed, clearly. His face had gone quite red. Perhaps he wanted a change of subject—because the elder made an unexpected offer.
"We were about to go in and rest a bit. If you don't mind, why not come have a cup of tea before you go?"
"Tea?"
"Yes. The kind you drink."
Tea, all of a sudden. At his words, I looked around. Left, right—nothing but abandoned factories. Tea, out here? It made no sense. As I was about to ask, the elder opened the door of one of the closed plants.
"I mean we should drink it in here."
"In a factory?"
"Yes. In a factory. Heh. Come in. It's warmer than it looks."
With a heavy creak the door swung open, and I stepped inside.
He said he ran a factory when he was young—so this was the place.
On a previous walk I'd heard about the elder's past life. Along with the story of his army stew, there had been talk of a factory. I never imagined it would be this one.
And the moment I entered, what came out of me was pure admiration.
"Wow. This is impressive."
"Impressive? It's just a factory. Haha."
You could see the owner's meticulousness in every corner. None of the usual clutter of materials scattered everywhere. What stock remained was neatly arranged in one place, enough only to suggest the atmosphere of a workshop.
Two remaining lathe machines still stood installed, along with the empty spaces where others had been. Looking at them, I could tell what kind of plant this had been.
A precision machining shop.
I'd heard places like this used to be everywhere. Own a single lathe and you were a boss. With that one machine, people raised families and put their children through university. An entire household was poured into each of those machines.
And here I was, standing in the middle of it. Even standing still, the feeling was something else.
"Besides the ones still here, there must have been a lot of lathes."
"There were. At the peak, more than ten. You know lathes?"
"A little."
In my previous life, I'd handled one of these machines for a while. Lathes were more versatile than people gave them credit for. When I needed to make things that didn't exist, I tried this and that—and nothing quite matched a lathe. They worked metal, of course, but there were woodworking versions too, which made them especially useful. I'd even used one to fashion cooking tools.
"Heh. Is that so?"
"Just enough to pretend."
"That's something. These days people don't even know what this machine is!"
As he ran a hand over it, the elder grew strangely heated.
"This is what fed my whole family. And they don't know!"
"Is that right?"
"It is. Aish… this place is so precious, and they just don't understand."
There was a note of hurt in his voice. Was there a story behind it?
This is an unusual side of him.
For all his vigor, he had always presented a calm front. Seeing him this worked up was a first.
His wife spoke up from beside him.
"He's upset, that's all."
"Upset?"
Upset about something—but why?
"Not a single one of his children wanted to take over this place."
"Hmph…!"
"Don't take it so hard. You worked yourself to the bone running this place, brought people in, fed them—and the children all grew up well, didn't they?"
"They grew up fine. They just act like they raised themselves!"
"They've all settled into good lives, haven't they?"
"I know. I know."
The reason was clear enough. Who wanted to inherit a factory these days? Even thriving plants sometimes got passed over because the children refused them. The elder seemed to be in a similar position. No heir. And he couldn't quite let that go.
At the same time—
"Hoo… It doesn't have to be a factory. I just don't want to let it go like this. You know how precious this space is, don't you?"
"…I know. I know. From the day you first put up the doors, I know how much you cherished this place."
"I'm afraid it'll just disappear."
The place that had fed his whole family. Leaving it to sleep like this clearly grieved him.
So it doesn't have to stay a factory.
I could feel the simple wish that this space remain. To someone else it might be nothing but layers of old years—but to the elder, this was the mark of a life lived, and he wanted to leave it behind.
To him, this place was both an inheritance and proof that he had lived.
And, as if on cue, I found myself at a moment when I needed a mark of my own.
I settled the elderly lady into a seat, then carefully spoke to the elder as he lifted a clinking teacup and prepared the tea himself.
"Elder, would it be alright if I made a proposal?"
"What is it? If it's from you, I'll take anything!"
"That's right. If you need something, just say so."
Under the kindness of both elders, I went straight to the point.
"This place—would it be possible for me to use it?"
"Hm?"
"!!!!"
"What I mean is—"
As my explanation followed, surprise spread across both of their faces.