Chapter 76
Chapter 76
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: A Tokyo Morning and a New Melody
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"Tokyo is so bleak."
Yuri stared blankly out the window at the sprawling Tokyo skyline as she murmured to herself.
Tokyo was a world apart from Okinawa.
A vast plain devoid of mountains was crammed full of buildings.
At night, it shimmered like something out of another world, but in the morning light, the endless sea of white structures felt stark and desolate.
Still, it wasn't bad.
Not the city itself, but life here.
It was her third day living in this place.
And she could say without hesitation that these three days had been pure bliss.
"Everyone up? Come eat."
Meals appeared right on time.
With her heart fluttering, she'd hurry to the kitchen to find two women preparing food.
One was Yeonwoo's grandmother, the legendary jazz pianist Heo Ok. The other was the housekeeper Shunji had hired for Heo Ok and Yeonwoo.
The housekeeper could make anything.
Home cooking, Western dishes, Chinese fare—though adapted in Japanese style—nothing was beyond her.
And the taste? Out of this world.
She was a chef without equal.
Thanks to her, the past few days had been utter happiness.
"Ooh! Braised pork with potatoes! Wait, is that rafute? Sea grapes? Goya champuru? Whoa, you can even do Okinawan food?"
Rafute was Okinawa-style braised pork belly, sea grapes were those popular ones even in Korea, and goya champuru was a stir-fry of bitter melon, tofu, and eggs.
"I can make pretty much any Japanese dish you can eat."
The housekeeper smiled warmly, and Yuri smiled back before sneaking a glance at Heo Ok.
Truth be told, Heo Ok didn't cook. She had no need to. But today, she'd suddenly joined in preparing breakfast.
Heo Ok set her creation on the table.
Nabe, maybe?
Even with the lid on, the bubbling sound rose from the pot.
Curious, the lid flipped open.
"Kimchi jjigae?!"
Yuri paled.
Heo Ok, oblivious, beamed as she spoke.
"Yeonwoo said he was craving spicy kimchi jjigae. You eat it often too, Yuri, since your mom's Korean?"
"Uh, yeah... I mean, sometimes."
Yuri hesitated.
"Whoa, what's that smell? It smells amazing."
Just then, Annosuke wandered in from behind. He quickly scanned the table.
"Sashimi for breakfast, perfect. Natto too? I love mixing those two and piling them on. Oh, what's this? Kimuchi?"
"Kimchi jjigae. Like Korea's hot pot."
"Oh, Teacher. I've heard of it. Looks delicious."
Yuri stood there ashen-faced while Annosuke grinned like an idiot. Yeonwoo slipped past them, rubbing his eyes, and habitually grabbed chopsticks and bowls to help set the table.
The housekeeper watched him with an approving smile.
"What a good boy, Yeonwoo. Madam must have raised you so well for you to handle this on your own."
Yeonwoo just smiled at the praise. Annosuke and Yuri, though, looked sheepish.
They exchanged glances and hurried to help Yeonwoo set the table.
"That's what I was most curious about."
Annosuke mounded his rice bowl like something out of the Joseon era, ladled kimchi jjigae into his soup bowl, picked up Korean-style chopsticks, and slurped some broth.
"Ah, that... it's not gonna taste good..."
Yuri whispered, but Annosuke shot her a what? look and popped it in his mouth.
His eyes went wide.
"Ooh!!"
"How is it?"
"A bit spicy, but delicious. Wow, Korean food's great."
Yuri tilted her head.
Delicious? Kimchi jjigae?
She thought back to the stuff her mom made on whims.
No way it could taste good.
Curious, Yuri tentatively brought some to her lips.
The smell was like her mom's.
But the moment the broth hit her tongue, her eyes bulged.
"Is... is this kimchi jjigae?"
"What's wrong?"
"What was that stuff my mom made...?"
A completely different dish danced beautifully in her mouth.
The fiery kick and refreshing spread of flavors made her recall her mom's version.
Sour, bitter, sweet.
What was it Mom always said?
'How's that, sweetie? No seasonings at all—it's good for you, made with tons of plum syrup.'
Yeah, plum syrup.
"Um, Sensei... does it have plum syrup in it?"
"In kimchi jjigae? Why would you put plum syrup in that?"
"Oh..."
Right. Mom was just bad at cooking. When called out, she'd always say it was because it was Japanese-style; she was great at Korean food, and everyone said it was tasty.
So she'd assumed Korean food just wasn't flavorful.
'Mom lied!'
Turning something this delicious into that mess and insisting she was good at Korean food and that it tasted great.
Fresh betrayal toward her mom washed over her.
"Umami! Umami! So umami!!"
Annosuke, hooked on the kimchi jjigae, chugged water nonstop but devoured it anyway, eyes blazing.
Beside him, the silent powerhouse—little giant Yeonwoo—matched him bowl for bowl.
"Eek!!"
Yuri dove in too, refusing to be outdone, scooping huge ladles and stuffing herself.
The three polished off several bowls of rice despite it being breakfast, utterly overeating.
"Alright, bellies full. Time to head to work?"
At Heo Ok's words, the two sprawled on the floor groaned and hauled themselves up.
Since yesterday, Annosuke and Yuri had been going to headquarters with Yeonwoo to practice.
Individually, they were blue-and-yellow fairy-approved talents.
But they were still individuals.
As a duo set to debut, they needed to sync up and become one.
This was the time to forge that.
"Walk it off? Might as well."
"Sure."
Yuri, Annosuke, and Yeonwoo strolled out like it was a casual walk, heading slowly to headquarters.
"Hmm, smells like food. Where's it coming from?"
"Oh, I heard this neighborhood's having a little festival?"
Unlike Korea, Japan didn't limit festivals to local governments—neighborhood associations, merchants' groups, schools, and more hosted them.
Looks like this area was having one right now.
It was barely 10 a.m., but food aromas wafted temptingly.
Yeonwoo drifted toward it like a moth to flame.
"Ooh, yakitori. Wanna grab some?"
"Yeah... I could do one. What about you, Annosuke?"
"Sure?"
They each snagged a yakitori skewer and moved on.
"Whoa! Yakisoba! Let's get one pack to split?"
"Sure. You in, Annosuke?"
"Sure?"
They demolished the yakitori and split the yakitori.
"Tastes better than expected? You good, Yeonwoo?"
"Yeah, good."
"Wanna get one with hormones then?"
"I'll take shrimp!"
"Two it is."
They scarfed two more packs and hit the road again.
Now a nutty aroma spread.
What was it?
"Churros!"
"Dessert to finish?"
"Yes!!"
They clutched cinnamon-and-chocolate-dipped churros and continued.
But...
"Thirsty. Sis, Bro."
"Can't do it. Anything to drink? Slushies over there?"
"I'll take ice cream."
...It didn't end there. Only after slushies and ice cream did they reach headquarters.
On the way in, they ran into JOP's No. 2, Kazuhiro.
"Oh, here to practice? Was heading to drop these off anyway. Snack while you work."
Kazuhiro dumped armloads of snacks and drinks on them and left.
In the studio, the trio munched a bit before proper practice.
"Ready to start?"
"...Too full. Can't sing."
"Weak, being a girl. I could go anytime... Urp."
"You pig, burp outside!"
"Sorry, sorry. I'm stuffed too."
"Skip lunch...? If we eat that too, no practice at all."
The unexpected gluttony led them to vow off lunch and flop on the sofa.
No singing, but they weren't idle.
They talked music at least.
Surprisingly, Annoske led.
He knew jazz history inside out.
"The '80s saw everyone doing free jazz, so there was backlash—retro vibes, what we'd call neoclassicism now. Wynton Marsalis was the trumpet star then. Oh, and your grandma started shining around then. She kept a low profile on TV—maybe the Eastern bias or just not her thing—but online, 'Jade' pops up a lot. Marsalis even name-dropped Teacher Jade."
Yeonwoo was hooked on Annosuke's history lesson. Yuri, usually just mildly interested, dove in deep too—jazz was Grandpa's favorite.
"Jazz is free. No kings or queens fit—except one. 'There was the piano's Jade.' That's what he said."
"Wow...!"
Yeonwoo beamed, mouth agape in a triangle of awe.
"Grandma plays piano so good."
He sat at the upright piano specially placed for him.
Yeonwoo played not his own colorful style, but a faithful mimic of his grandma's after ages.
Drenched in thick jazz perfume, Yuri and Annosuke closed their eyes, lost in the music.
Grandma's piano had romance. Blue fairies led by her own shimmered softly to the jazz mood, delighting Yeonwoo's eyes.
But wait.
Mid-performance, Yeonwoo eyed them.
"You two... wanna do one jazz track?"
"Huh?"
"What'd he say?"
Stunned by Yeonwoo's sudden proposal—they'd missed it amid the piano bliss—they stared. His hands resumed jazz.
What if he added more house flair for sleekness?
That improvisation birthed a full song.
House, but reeking distinctly of jazz.
Yeonwoo turned to them.
"What do you think?"
"What's this song? Never heard it."
"I love it. So good? You just made it?"
Yeonwoo nodded.
"Yeah. For you two."
Their song to sing.
Their eyes widened.
A new song, just like that?
And this good?
As debut-bound duo, their hearts raced.