Seventeen, and the Memorial Day (5)
The steak was beyond all expectations—truly, beyond beyond. The outside was lightly crisped, so when I cut into it, that thin, shell-like crust cracked with a satisfying crunch first, revealing a cross-section that gleamed moistly in a shade close to vermilion. Calling it just a "decently grilled steak" would be an insult; even the glossy sheen on the surface set it apart.
Cautiously slipping a piece into my mouth, it started with a simple warmth and tenderness of meat. But as I chewed, the juices burst forth heavily from within. While those juices spread across my tongue, the aroma of the sauce pooled at the bottom of the plate rose up belatedly. Red wine sauce, was it? It paired so perfectly with the steak. The sensation of it melting smoothly in my mouth was so delightful that with every bite, I found myself chewing slowly, reluctant to let it end.
And whether he'd considered my small mouth or not, the pieces Ajusshi cut were exactly one bite-sized for me. Delicious and easy to eat—my hand kept going back, and my mouth never rested. He worriedly told me to eat slowly, but when he saw me stuffing my cheeks full and munching away, he burst out laughing. Sipping our non-alcoholic drinks alongside made it feel just like pairing the steak with real wine—the ambiance was spot on.
Once the steak plates were cleared by the quietly entering waiter, smaller dishes appeared one by one on the table. In the center of each plate sat a round, flat white mound that quivered slightly. Drizzled halfway over it was a sauce blending red and purple hues, with finely chopped strawberries and blueberries neatly arranged to the side.
"Dessert is panna cotta with berry compote."
The waiter explained and withdrew. I picked up a small spoon instead of a fork and scooped gently from the edge. From the moment the spoon touched it, something felt off. It wasn't springy like jelly, nor gooey like pudding. The merest brush of the spoon tip sliced through it smoothly, almost effortlessly. The instant it hit my tongue, my eyes widened involuntarily. A cool, creamy milk flavor spread softly first, followed a beat later by the sweet-tart burst from above. My stomach was already stuffed, but the spoon headed back to the plate anyway.
In the end, I overate in a way that wasn't like me at all. Even standing up felt burdensome. In the meantime, the waiter slipped in quietly and handed Ajusshi something—a small leather booklet, probably the bill. Ajusshi nodded familiarly, pulled a card from his wallet, handed it over, and signed inside without showing me the amount. I was curious, but I didn't have the nerve to peek.
Once settled, the waiter opened the door and bowed deeply again outside. Clutching my belly lightly, I grabbed Ajusshi's arm and shuffled out slowly. Without his support, I might have been stuck sitting there much longer.
Even after leaving the restaurant, the aftertaste lingered stubbornly. Images of that luxurious meal—the likes of which I'd never experienced—kept flickering before my eyes.
"Still got time. Want to take a walk to digest?"
Now, nothing Ajusshi suggested felt worth refusing. Everything was good. I nodded without resistance, and he naturally drove off again.
We arrived at Han River Park. Closer than I'd thought, so we got there quickly. First time here in Seojin's body, though. The scenery hadn't changed much from before. Well, five years isn't enough for big shifts.
"Shall we walk a bit?"
"Yeah."
I answered shortly and stepped slowly alongside him. By the time we got out of the car, I'd digested enough that walking was fine. People dotted the riverside path in moderate numbers—not too crowded. Joggers, cyclists, folks blankly staring at the water from benches. I kept glancing around as we walked side by side with Ajusshi.
Laughter from distant groups mixed with nearby dog barks, strangely soothing my heart. The river flowed calmly. Sunlight sparkled on the ripples, revealing endless gray waters beneath.
Looks kinda dirty...
Resting my hand lightly on the railing, I peered down at the river. Then I glanced up at Ajusshi's profile beside me.
"Ah."
The moment I looked up, our eyes met. Never imagined he'd be watching me—I froze, staring blankly. He looked away first. No clue what this ajusshi's thinking.
A few more steps, and a large ship moving slowly across the river caught my eye. People dotted its two- or three-story decks like tiny figures. Farther along, a pier appeared below our path. Signs reading "Cruise Boarding," crowds at the ticket booth, a waiting line—all jumped into view at once.
"Want to try the cruise?"
At Ajusshi's words, I looked down at the pier again. I'd always vaguely wanted to, but never had the chance. Remembering that, excitement fluttered in my chest.
"Let's go."
I hadn't even answered, but he turned toward the pier ahead. No idea how he knew, but he'd read my mind. My mood lifted even more; I followed silently down.
We bought tickets at the booth and joined the line at the boarding sign. Shorter than expected—mostly couples looking like lovers, some friend groups. We fell into the latter category.
Timing was right before departure; a short wait, and boarding was announced. On the ship, I scanned the interior first, then followed Ajusshi straight to the outdoor second deck. A sudden gust tousled my hair, but it beat the stuffy indoors.
We claimed a spot near the river-side railing and stood side by side. Hand on the rail, gazing out—the park we'd just walked spread below. Lifting my head higher revealed Seoul's skyline of buildings across the water.
"Hello, passengers. Thank you for choosing Han River ○○ Cruise. We'll depart shortly. Please hold the rails firmly when moving—"
The announcement played, and soon the ship eased forward. Seeing the water churn below the rail hyped me up. As we advanced, waves split white in a V against the hull. The pier receded, people shrinking to dots.
The river breeze was chillier than expected, but refreshing on this hot summer day. Especially without long sleeves. Gripping the rail tighter, I blankly watched the water and city lights blend. A strong gust whipped my hair across my face, then calmed.
"...Ajusshi."
After staring at the river forever, I dropped my gaze to my feet.
"Yeah?"
He turned his head slightly. Still facing forward, I gripped the rail harder.
"Thanks... for today."
Saying it made my ears burn for no reason. Like every year, this should have been the worst day of the year—the closest to hell. But thanks to Ajusshi, it turned into a truly great one.
He didn't reply for a moment. Just as I wondered if he'd heard and glanced sideways, a chuckle came.
"No need to thank me. If you enjoyed it, that's enough."
Peeking, he faced front with just the corner of his mouth lifted—like it was no big deal. Somehow, that tickled my heart even more.
"Excuse me, you two."
A voice startled me; turning, a staffer stood with a small camera around his neck. His name tag bore the cruise logo and his name.
"We're doing a Polaroid souvenir photo event on the outdoor deck right now. Mind if I take one for you?"
My mind blanked. A photo?
"Yes, please."
Ajusshi answered without hesitation. Caught off-guard by the sudden photo op, I froze in place.
"Ah, just stay as you are. Your side profiles will come out great."
How to stand? What expression? My head spun. Then Ajusshi quietly stepped beside me, right next to.
"Haha, looks like your daughter’s a bit tense."
The cameraman glanced between us, smiling.
"Just smile a little, and it'll turn out really pretty."
More flustered, but dragging it out would be worse. And daughter? Ajusshi doesn't look that old—such a weird misunderstanding. It soured my mood considerably. Better to snap it quick and done.
I made a V-sign with my right hand and forced the brightest smile I could. Click—the shutter snapped, done. He handed over the Polaroid right away, but the image took seconds to develop fully. Colors emerged, outlines sharpened, revealing me in the photo. A stiff, obviously forced smile. And beside me, Ajusshi wore an even more awkward expression.
Why?