Malatang and a Knee Pillow
My chest was full of happiness, yet somehow I felt strangely melancholy.
"What do you like, Unni? You know… Korean, Western, Chinese—that kind of thing."
"I like everything Jihye makes!"
"Hmm… alright."
What did Unni really like?
…Me?
"Ahem. Jjamppong or jajangmyeon—one, two, three!"
"Jjamppong?"
So she liked spicy food and seafood, for starters.
"Dip or dunk—one, two, three!"
"Dunk!"
"Huh…"
And she was a dunker. That one was going to be controversial.
"Wait… Jihye, don't tell me…"
"There's no 'don't tell me' about it. Dipping is the golden rule, isn't it?"
Once you tossed everything in the sauce, whatever sat at the bottom turned into a soggy mess. A good place, a bad place—it didn't matter; the bad places were already soggy anyway. Bottom line: dunking was unforgivable.
"Jihye… I believed in you…"
She looked at me like she had never imagined I could have such terrible taste, edged away a little, and let out a pitiful little whine.
"Believed in what!"
Still, I had to cut Unni some slack.
"Hmph… but it's so good that way…"
"Mm… then how about I make us some malatang instead?"
"Huh!? You can make malatang?"
"Yeah… I got bored once and tried it. I'm terrible with spice, so I made mine mild."
Unni strode right up and seized my hand.
"Jihye. Let's get married. Or wait—should we start slow and date first?"
"Augh! Why are you like this."
And just like that, malatang it was. Unni looked ready to fall head over heels for it.
"Oh… they sell everything here."
"Yeah. You can find pretty much anything at this place."
The supermarket had a whole corner devoted to foreign spices—star anise, bay leaves, basil, cinnamon, the works.
But… the truth was, malatang base came ready-made in a pouch. In Korean, even.
"Oh…"
Perfect—one packet was just enough for two.
If I had tried to build the sauce from scratch, I would have ended up with so many leftover spices I would have been forced to eat nothing but malatang forever. Chinese peppercorns, fennel, and something called cumin I had never even heard of…
I was deeply grateful for the premade base. Ingredients you used once and never again were simply not manageable.
"So this, and then noodles?"
"Ah. What kind of noodles do you want?"
"Anything!"
Glass noodles, then… the thin ones. I would have to soak them the moment we got back, and the thick kind took forever.
"For meat—pork belly, thinly sliced brisket, shaved beef…"
"Anything!"
Shaved beef it was. One pack… no, better grab two. And a pack of the round fish cakes.
Whatever we didn't finish, Unni would happily polish off.
I loaded up the vegetables in a hurry. Bean sprouts, bok choy, napa cabbage, mushrooms—the classic combination, no more, no less.
Green onions were essential, but there was no way she didn't already have those at home.
Anyway—one pack of beef bone broth.
Ah. Might as well grab dumplings too. They would make a nice little side. I tossed a few drinks into the cart as well.
"Want something to drink? Alcohol, I mean."
"Mmm… yeah. Sounds good."
I added a bottle for the finishing touch. I wasn't much of a drinker myself; when I did drink, it was usually just to match the mood.
Catching up with a friend after a long time. One glass because the day had been rough. That sort of thing.
"That'll be 57,450 won. Do you have any points?"
"Kim Suhan… ah. Wait, cancel that—put it on this card, please."
I had my pride. No matter how annoying Oppa could be, I wasn't about to pull a stunt like that.
"Hey, hey. Jihye. I should be the one paying."
"Nuh-uh. I've got it."
I shoved my card at the cashier, but Unni plucked it right back out and handed over her own.
"Ugh, why."
"I already used a wish coupon on you. You think I'm going to let you pay on top of that? Absolutely not. Besides, treating you to things like this is an unni's job."
She said it so matter-of-factly, then gently pressed my card back into my hand.
"Fine… alright. Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
Feeling oddly awkward, I picked out one of the mid-sized boxes they left out in place of plastic bags, folded it open, and started packing the groceries.
"You're not going to be able to carry all that."
"It's fine… hngh… okay, maybe not."
"We'll split it~"
"Okay, okay."
Unni came back with two boxes about half the size. We hadn't even bought that much, and I still couldn't lift it.
I wondered if I ought to start working out—then remembered, all over again, that the difference in strength between men and women was very real. Back when I was a guy, I would have Tetris-packed the whole haul and strolled home humming without a second thought.
"Alright! Time to go~"
The car pulled out quiet and solid. She had said she was a nurse, but her car was nicer than Oppa's.
Her place wasn't far; we got there quickly.
"First things first… I'll get the glass noodles soaking."
The moment we stepped inside, I took in the layout of the apartment and headed straight for the kitchen.
Unni stood beside me, smiling so brightly it practically sparkled as she watched.
"Hehehe. This is the best."
"So the service meets with your approval."
"Completely! Five stars!"
She wandered around taking it all in, marveling at every little thing, snapping pictures as if she still couldn't quite believe I was actually here.
I hadn't even started cooking, and she already looked ready to send me home with a glowing review.
"Maybe we should close the door first? The smell's going to travel everywhere."
"Got it~"
I lined the ingredients up neatly on the table. So this was what you could do with a big kitchen.
"Now where…"
I pulled out a bowl, tipped in the glass noodles, and left them to soak under a stream of hot water from the purifier.
Next came a pot, then a cutting board.
"Uh… where are the green onions!?"
"I portioned the basics into containers and stuck them in the fridge!"
At her words I opened the refrigerator and scanned the shelves. Amid a jumble of unidentifiable leftovers sat sealed containers of green onions and minced garlic.
"Nice."
That was Unni for you. Anyone who kept that much ready to go already had the fundamentals of cooking down.
Enough chatter. I tossed a reasonable amount of garlic and green onion into the pot. I usually went heavy on both, but this was malatang, so I held back a little.
Before long the pot would be packed so full you wouldn't be able to spot a green onion even if I added more.
I set the pot on the stove, tore open the bone broth, and poured it in. Hmm… a splash more water.
There was one basic rule every cook needed to know.
Things that took a long time went in first. Things that cooked fast went in last.
Why did everyone dump the entire bomb load in at once and then wonder why it failed? The tofu turned into silken mush. If that was what you wanted, just make soft tofu stew.
"La la la~"
I tore open the malatang base and stirred it in. Watching the milky bone broth turn a deeper red than kimchi stew, I found myself humming without meaning to.
In the quiet broken only by the hiss of the gas, I absently picked up my phone.
"…Ugh."
Still hadn't reflected, huh. But I wasn't going to be the one to reach out first. It would only turn into another preemptive incident.
And tomorrow was the weekend.
On weekends I usually stopped by Father's house—restocked his fridge, cleaned a little, cooked something, and headed home.
I would make Unni breakfast tomorrow, then go to Father's. Oppa needed a taste of life without me around. Just for a day, but still…
"But Unni… isn't there anyone you're seeing? You ought to get married."
At some point she had changed clothes and come right up beside me.
"…Haa. Don't bring that up. I don't even want to think about it."
"Come on, old maids aren't exactly in demand~"
A woman had to catch a man during her prime. Trying to buy one with money once you hit your thirties or forties was a much harder game.
At the very least, people ought to be able to say, Your mother used to be beautiful enough to rival a Miss Korea.
"Ugh!! I'm not even thirty yet!"
"Hah—wait, wait, wait!"
"I just want to lie here with Jihye."
Unni slipped behind me, cupped my chest in both hands and gave a fond squeeze, then let her palms slide down to my waist and tugged me toward the sofa.
"…I don't want to get married."
"Why not~ You've got a place, a nice car, a great job."
And Unni was pretty, too. She was always telling me how pretty I was, but did she not realize how pretty she was herself?
"Ah. Dad got me all this."
"Ahh… that's really something."
…Capital on top of everything else. At this point, wasn't she a top one-percent bride?
"With all that going for you… I feel like you could pick just about anyone and they'd say yes."
"I said I don't want to… whatever. Give me a lap pillow."
"Good grief… lie down, then."
I cupped the back of her head and gently guided her down onto my lap. My knees came together on their own, and I swept her hair back so it wouldn't get in the way.
"Wow~ You're so feminine…"
"And you're not?"
"Please… I don't look all mature the way you do."
She pressed her cheek lightly against my thigh, then turned her head and gave the soft flesh an idle little squeeze.
Dark hair with a faint brown cast; thin lashes that were easy to miss if you weren't looking, but definitely there; deep black eyes that curved into the sweetest smile when she laughed—she was genuinely cute, genuinely pretty.
Right now Unni was so adorable I just wanted to pet her. Fine. I could at least chant a little spell.
"Pretty… so pretty…"
"Huh?"
"You always work so hard… so…?"
From the day we first met until now, Unni had always looked after me. I was simply grateful.
I just wanted this bond—something like sisters—to last a long time, without any fighting.
"…Our Jihye. You've grown up."
"What am I, a baby."
"Will you keep stroking my hair a little longer? It feels surprisingly nice."
I brushed the bangs out of her eyes and stroked her hair in slow, steady passes.
The weight of her head pressing into my thigh; the fresh, sweet, bright citrus scent of her drifting up and filling my nose…
"Unnii… it's ready."
"Nn… huh? Ah. Okay."
Leaving Unni, who had somehow fallen asleep on my lap, I finished the malatang. I even fried up a batch of dumplings on the side.
"Haaah… Jihye's lap is heaven…"
"Ugh, what are you saying."
"I'm saying it feels good~"
I took a sip of the malatang broth.
"Oh… not ba—eugh…"
I had added water. I was a spice wimp and I had absolutely accounted for that. So why was it this viciously hot.
"Wow. This is actually amazing."
"Ugh… so spicy…"
"This is spicy!?"
But it was delicious. The chew of the glass noodles, the meat soaked through with mala—both of them were dangerously good.
Even so, the heat was unavoidable.