Chapter 52
Chapter 52
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: Raison d'Etre (7)
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Onui must have been thinking the same thing as me.
That Yoon-seul could interfere with past recollections triggered by trigger foods.
[Dal-nim: We weren't entirely sure ourselves, but what made you think that?]
[Me: The reason is.]
I explain.
I've triggered recollections through trigger foods three times.
Once when Yoon-seul and I made soy sauce noodles at home.
Once when Uncle Kang's wife received her cancer diagnosis again.
And just a few days ago, when Brother Ho-yeon asked me to make some side dishes.
'Yoon-seul's scolding you. Go home quick.'
After Uncle Kang came to his senses from the egg fried rice, Yoon-seul had definitely said that right in front of me.
Even though she'd never once yelled at him to his face.
I'd thought it was odd, but at the time, I hadn't bothered trying to understand a five-year-old's every action.
'Ho-yeon Uncle? Yoon-seul said yes too!'
That was what Yoon-seul had blurted out on the way to this bookstore just moments ago.
Her usage of "it's okay" was a bit off, but there was no doubt she'd done something nice for Brother Ho-yeon.
Because we'd both stuck our bellies out together.
However, when Brother Ho-yeon had been eating pork neck at the shop, Yoon-seul had just been eating her own portion beside him, not doing much else.
The common thread in those two instances.
They'd both happened right after I'd made a trigger food in front of Yoon-seul.
And the most decisive clue.
'Oppa.... Why are you crying?'
That day when Yoon-seul and I made soy sauce noodles.
In the recollection brought on by the trigger food.
When I was caught up in the memory of eating soy sauce noodles with my parents as a kid. It was Yoon-seul who pulled me out of that memory and back to reality.
She'd brought me back to my senses at the boundary between memory and reality.
[Haet-nim: I see... If you've witnessed and felt all those things firsthand, it's no wonder you'd guess that.]
[Me: But from the way you're talking, it seems you didn't specifically give Yoon-seul that ability?]
[Dal-nim: If we did something like that, we'd at least ask you first, Brother!]
Fair point.
Onui could be impulsive at times, but at their core, they were beings who acted for the sake of us siblings.
[Me: Sorry. I got a bit heated without realizing you hadn't done it. I was worried about Yoon-seul.]
The very idea of peeking into others' memories felt potentially dangerous for Yoon-seul, in my opinion.
Even if it was just fragments of food-related memories being pulled out, what if those memories were traumatic?
Then Yoon-seul could end up witnessing something horrific without meaning to.
The thought made my heart feel a little uneasy.
[Haet-nim: We understand, Brother Ju-hyeon. From your perspective, we're the only ones who could grant an ability like that.]
That was a big part of it.
The fact that I could draw out others' memories with food.
The growth in my cooking knowledge and skills.
It was all thanks to Onui, so I'd gone ahead and assumed any supernatural phenomena had to be connected to them.
But.
[Me: Still, sorry. I feel bad for suspecting you guys out of nowhere.]
There was no excuse for jumping straight to a harsh tone with Onui.
[Dal-nim: It's fine. But as an apology, send a 10KG bag of the new protein shake to our address. They came out with avocado flavor, and I want to try it.]
[Me: ?]
I couldn't actually send anything to wherever they were, so I was grateful they were brushing it off with a joke.
[Haet-nim: Feeling sorry toward us is important, but Yoon-seul is the bigger priority right now, right?]
[Me: Yeah, honestly, I'm worried about her peeking into other people's memories.]
I wanted my little sister to grow up seeing only good things, pretty things.
[Dal-nim: One option from now on could be to never make trigger foods again. They're not essential for rUnnieng the shop anyway.]
Dal-nim was right.
There were plenty of other ways to boost customer satisfaction.
But.
[Me: That could work, like you said, but isn't the key here figuring out why Yoon-seul ended up that way?]
[Haet-nim: That's important too. It'd mean someone besides us made contact with her first, but honestly, we have no way of knowing right now.]
So, was there really no way?
[Dal-nim: For now, no. But like I hinted earlier, we snuck one of Yoon-seul's hairs.]
[Me: You're awfully bold about admitting you snuck it.]
[Dal-nim: I figured you'd get mad if I didn't tell you now.]
He had a point; it wasn't the right timing to get upset.
Stealing my little sister's hair!
Given the circumstances, I'd let it slide.
[Dal-nim: We might be able to come up with some countermeasures using it. Like identifying who gave her this ability. Or blocking her from interfering in memories.]
Hearing Dal-nim's explanation left me conflicted.
Trigger foods.
I could just stop making them.
I was confident I could raise customer satisfaction without them. I'd been gaining more and more experience rUnnieng the business lately.
But the faces of Uncle Kang and Brother Ho-yeon came to mind.
Both of them had eaten egg fried rice and salt-grilled pork neck, respectively, and beamed with joy.
They were people I hadn't seen smile so brightly and genuinely in ages.
"They're not the types to make faces like that often."
It had to be because they'd seen good memories through the trigger foods.
Or maybe Yoon-seul had played some role in them.
Something to make those memories even better.
My little sister was incredibly proactive, after all.
Seeing those expressions on their faces had truly made me happy.
Not just because they were acquaintances of mine, but above all, making people smile through cooking was my ultimate goal.
[Me: Then let's not jump to conclusions. I'll wait for your investigation results first. That said, trigger foods definitely boost satisfaction a lot when served to customers, so I don't want to give up that advantage easily.]
[Haet-nim: A wise choice.]
[Me: Please analyze Yoon-seul's hair... thoroughly.]
[Dal-nim: Leave it to us.]
Even as I typed it out, my hands trembled.
But there was no helping it.
It was absolutely necessary.
Like submitting a hair sample to a hospital for medical tests.
With that, the chat with Onui wrapped up for now, but Yoon-seul showed no sign of waking.
Snooze, snooze.
I gently stroked the cheek of the sleeping Yoon-seul.
If my sister were just three years older, I could've asked her directly.
Like, if she'd had any strange experiences lately.
But Yoon-seul was five.
Sometimes she said and did things so out of left field that I couldn't grasp her intentions.
On top of that, asking, "Yoon-seul, have you ever actually seen memories from Uncle Choco or Red Hat Uncle?"
Would probably just twist my imagination even more.
"Guess I'll read a bit more."
I opened the French philosophy book again, the one that was supposedly easy.
And closed it again in less than five minutes.
"This isn't my style."
I decided not to touch philosophy books anymore.
Too difficult.
I carefully stood up so as not to wake Yoon-seul and wandered around the inside of the bookstore.
Wandering just meant slowly patrolling the cramped space.
Since it had been a while, I decided to venture into the deeper sections.
The outer areas of the shop were filled with relatively popular novels and picture books, but the inner sections had other genres.
The most representative one being.
"Poetry books."
Worn, slim volumes of poetry stood in neat rows.
They were grouped by publisher, which kept the shelving design harmonious and clean-looking.
It didn't take long to find what I wasn't even looking for.
Less "found" and more like the poetry book with that name written vertically caught my eye strongly.
[Poet Lee Joo-hee]
Our biological mother.
Yoon-seul's and my.
That person's name.
Half a year ago—no, even three months ago—I would've ignored it and headed to another genre's section.
I might not have even gone near the poetry area to avoid encountering something like this in the first place.
But now was different.
Thanks to Yoon-seul, my heart had calmed and stabilized.
"Shall I read it?"
The reason I opened this poetry book was simple.
The phrase "raison d'être" from that French philosophy book earlier had stuck with me.
If I had to pinpoint it, this person was the reason for my existence, so I was curious what kind of writing she did.
I carefully read the lines in the poetry book, written by someone younger than me.
What stood out was how often the word "love" appeared.
What is love.
Loving someone.
It was full of such ticklish phrases.
Looking at the rows and columns repeating like that, I genuinely felt relieved.
Because the poetry book's title was.
"Yoon-seul?"
"Huh? When did you get here, Yoon-seul?"
"Oppa, I was gonna scare you. Sneak sneak."
"Looks like mission success? You got me."
Yoon-seul giggled and spread her arms wide.
She often got affectionate like this after waking from a nap. I scooped her up in a hug.
Then I buried my nose lightly between her shoulder and trapezius.
The familiar scent put my mind at ease.
It was exactly as Yoon-seul had read it.
The poetry book's title was
Yoon-seul.
I was glad that a poetry book with that title contained so much of the word "love." At the very least, she must have loved this child.
No, whatever that person's love amounted to, at least she probably never did anything cruel to Yoon-seul.
That alone brought me relief.
With a faint smile, I slipped the poetry book back into place.
"Yoon-seul, shall we grab a few books to read at the shop and head home?"
"Okay!"
"Let's make something tasty at home today."
"Tasty stuff?"
"What would Yoon-seul like to eat?"
"Yoon-seul wants to eat everything Oppa makes!"
"Then how about we make some pork stir-fry together, step by step?"
"Yeah! Love it!"
With that, we closed the used bookstore's door and headed home.
On the way, I texted Uncle Kang.
[Me: Uncle, we stopped by the bookstore today and borrowed a few books. Dusted things off as a bonus.]
It wasn't long before a reply came.
It was a text with a photo attached.
[Kang Pil-jung: Thanks!]
The photo in the message showed two people.
"Yoon-seul, look at this. It's Uncle Choco."
"Hm? Yeah it is."
Maybe because he wasn't holding any chocolate, Yoon-seul's reaction was lukewarm.
It looked like a nice photo to me, though.
It was a picture of Uncle Kang and his wife side by side.
Uncle looked healthy as always, and his wife was in patient garb.
Treatment seemed to be going well; she looked thinner than last time, but her expression was bright.
Both were awkwardly flashing thumbs-up at the phone camera.
I noticed Uncle had trimmed his beard. He'd grown it back when he started the bookstore, vowing never to return to salaryman life, but he'd cleaned it up now.
Probably didn't want to look unkempt around the hospital.
"Looks like they're doing well."
Brother Ho-yeon had managed to visit that grandmother's grave, and Uncle Kang's wife's surgery had gone successfully.
Everything was heading in a good direction.
As we walked home, watching Yoon-seul who stubbornly refused to take off her unnecessary mask, I thought.
Our siblings would surely be the same.