A Bowl of Memories
As anyone who's lived alone knows, not everyone who lives by themselves is good at cooking. If anything, people who live alone tend to get used to buying food outside. It's only natural. Buying a single portion is often cheaper than cooking it yourself at home. Ingredients aren't usually sold in exact single servings, after all. Especially for someone like me, who hates making a huge batch of one dish and eating it repeatedly. There are meal kits and single-portion ingredients out there, but they're not particularly cheap or tasty, so I never bothered.
Even so, there are rare occasions when I cook for myself. Times when I want to eat memories rather than food. And today was one of those days.
This story isn't about Na Yeri—it's about me, back when I was still living as myself.
Abandoned right after birth, I spent eighteen years in an orphanage before becoming independent. The director who raised me all those years was like a real mother to me. Fortunately, she was a truly good person. If she hadn't wrapped me in love, I probably wouldn't have turned out even as normal as I did.
If there's one thing I have over Na Yeri, it's that I got to grow up under the director's care. Thinking about it that way, I can somewhat understand why Na Yeri was so twisted and why she became a villain. After all, if you took the director away from me and replaced her with a corrupt one, that would basically be Na Yeri. Honestly, it's impossible for a normal person to grow up in an environment like that.
"Well, Representative Cha did fill that void to some extent... but it still wasn't nearly enough."
Orphanage kids are always hungry. I was no exception. But with so little to go around, getting enough to eat was difficult. It was something even the director's love couldn't fully provide.
Whenever the children cried from hunger, the director would often make noodles. They weren't anything special—just broth made from store-bought soup packets, with leftover vegetables like zucchini or potatoes thrown in. We'd eaten them so often that even the younger kids would complain while eating. But as I got older, I found myself craving those noodles more and more.
When the craving hit, I'd buy noodles at restaurants, but no matter what I ordered, it never tasted the same. It wasn't just nostalgia—the flavor itself was completely different, and I always left disappointed. If I wanted that taste, I'd have to make it myself.
So I started trying to recreate the noodles from memory. At first, it was hopeless, but after countless attempts, I eventually managed to make something close to what the director used to serve. If it had been a more complicated dish, I never would've succeeded. It was only because it was simple noodles that I could pull it off at all.
Both my original self and the first-timeline version of me had made these noodles often, so the recipe and technique were still clear in my mind. Maybe because I'd heard Yu Hana talk about her mother's kimchi recipe, I suddenly had a craving for it today. It had been a while since I'd made noodles.
"Shopping?"
"Yeah. I was thinking of cooking lunch at home today."
"Ooh, YeriYeri's going to cook? This might be rare."
"Don't get your hopes up. It's just simple noodles."
"Doesn't matter what it is—the important thing is that YeriYeri's making it~"
"There's a problem, though."
"What problem?"
"I don't have money for ingredients."
"Aha, so that's why you're asking me to come along."
When I decided to make noodles, I realized I had no money for ingredients. My balance had been wiped out buying the sashimi knife and machete. Noodles aren't expensive, but right now I didn't even have that much, so I had no choice but to rely on someone else. I casually asked Yu Hana, and from her reaction, she seemed more than willing to cover the cost.
Though this girl really is something else...
"So this is what they call friendship tax. First time anyone's charged me one."
"No, you're eating it too, so how is this a friendship tax?"
"Come on, think about it. If you don't even have money for noodles, that means you're completely broke~ We don't know how long it'll be until we debut and get paid, so you can't just live with zero money. That's why it's better to start collecting friendship tax from the beginning."
"You're not wrong, but..."
In that sense, having Yu Hana as my roommate was pretty fortunate. She might be a bit shady, but it was clear she liked me. If it had been any other member, this wouldn't have been so easy. Of course, the whole "friendship tax" thing felt weird, but with my current reality of not even having money for feminine products, I couldn't afford to be picky.
"Alright, how about this. Until debut, I'll pay you friendship tax as your friend. In exchange, when our factory starts producing kimchi, you'll film a kimchi CF with me."
"Film a kimchi CF?"
"Yeah. Fair trade, right?"
"An idol doing a kimchi commercial..."
Of course she'd use this opportunity to push for a kimchi CF. That was so like Yu Hana. Friendship tax in exchange for a kimchi CF—what a miraculous exchange rate. But it wasn't a bad deal. That kimchi recipe was a precious memento for her, so doing this much was fine. Actually, it was better this way. I'd feel more comfortable accepting her money if there was some kind of promise attached rather than taking it for free.
Anyway, the friendship tax agreement was successfully concluded, and we bought the noodle ingredients at a nearby mart before heading home.
"What are you doing?"
"Making lunch. Noodles."
"Noodles?"
"Yeah, practice doesn't start until late afternoon. If anyone doesn't feel like going out to the company cafeteria, come sit down and have a bowl."
"Oh, made by you personally?"
"Well, yeah. Nothing to get excited about, but it'll be edible."
"Unni's homemade noodles."
By the time the broth was simmering nicely, the members started trickling into the kitchen one by one. They naturally took seats at the table. I'd only expected Seong Jiyeong, who was mentally exhausted, but seeing even Tasha and Ji Seoeun join in, it looked like everyone would be having noodles for lunch today. Abandoning the impressive Cha Entertainment cafeteria for plain old noodles—they must really not want to move around today. Maybe the stress of moving residences had affected everyone more than I'd realized.
"Anyone who can't eat cucumber?"
"I'm fine."
"Fine."
"I don't have anything I can't eat."
"Yeah, the texture's a bit weird, but since YeriYeri's giving it to me, I'll try it."
I hadn't known, but cucumber was apparently a polarizing ingredient. Some people disliked the texture or smell. These noodles needed cucumber for that nice crunch, so I always added it, but I had to ask in case anyone couldn't eat it. From the atmosphere, no one seemed to mind.
"Alright, let's eat."
I handed out bowls of noodles to each member.
"Isn't this too bland?"
"Might be for your taste. There's seasoning over there—sprinkle some on. And with the kimchi Yu Hana brought, it should balance out."
"I see. Eating it like this... definitely better."
True to her Russian motherland roots, where people drink vodka like water, Tasha was the first to complain about wanting something more stimulating. I'd expected as much. Her reaction to Yu Hana's kimchi had already given me a good idea of her palate.
"Unni's homemade noodles."
Meanwhile, Ji Seoeun, who gave a similar assessment, was just focused on eating. What was up with her? This probably wasn't particularly tasty to someone with what seemed like an elementary schooler's palate. She really was an unpredictable space battleship villain.
"Why are you just staring?"
"Ah, I don't have much of an appetite."
"Then at least try a bite. It'll probably be decent enough for you."
"You think so?"
"Yeah, you saw earlier. My taste is probably closer to yours than those two."
"That does seem to be the case."
Despite saying that, Seong Jiyeong kept hesitating. If she kept this up, it'd just be unnecessarily tiring for everyone, so I launched a guard-breaking attack.
"Back then, there was someone who truly loved me. She used to make noodles like this for me sometimes. So whenever I eat these noodles, it feels like she's right beside me."
"...Is that so?"
Seong Jiyeong, who had been flinching, carefully picked up a bite of noodles and put it in her mouth. As expected, the guard-breaking technique worked. I'd known it would. Seeing this difficult girl—who'd built walls because of being betrayed by a close friend—eat even like this, it seemed Yu Hana's prediction that I'd scored points with Seong Jiyeong during the kimchi battle wasn't wrong after all.
Her picking at it was probably because she didn't expect the noodles to be particularly good. So she'd eat a little out of courtesy? But the thing was, these noodles would suit Seong Jiyeong's palate just fine. As the kimchi had shown, she liked clean, simple flavors. And these noodles were the pinnacle of that—light and pristine. They were even seasoned with anchovy sauce instead of soy sauce to keep the broth clean. It had taken me quite a few experiments to figure that out. Any kind of soy sauce threw off that clean taste.
Of course, my opponent was formidable. Seong Jiyeong had clearly eaten nothing but the best. But even Seong Jiyeong had probably never eaten noodles this humble before. Maybe that was why they tasted new to her—because they were so simple?
If my cooking had been terrible, that novelty wouldn't have mattered. But when it came to these noodles, even I was at master level. In my opinion, this was one dish even Seong Jiyeong couldn't criticize.
"...It's good. Why is it good?"
"Right? Why is it good?"
"No, I'm not joking, this is..."
"A bit new, isn't it?"
"Yes. That's it. It's light and clean, but the flavor is new."
As expected, Seong Jiyeong gave my noodles her seal of approval. Her chopsticks moved a little faster than before as she emptied her bowl. Watching her enjoy the director's noodles made me feel strangely happy. If eating this helped lift Seong Jiyeong's mood after being upset by Yu Hana's scheme, then it was worth it.
Well then, time for me to have some too, after a long while.
The director was such a good person—she was probably living comfortably somewhere nice. If there were children there too, she might even be looking after them like she did in life. So there was no need for me to worry about her. I just needed to occasionally reminisce about the past like this and steadily take care of what I had to do.