Bibimbap and Lingering Memories
Seona's Restaurant stood not far from the guild building.
When she arrived, the cat she had spotted earlier was already gone, nowhere in sight.
Through the glass window, the father and daughter pair came into view.
Just like before, today too the two of them seemed utterly free of any worldly worries, their eyes holding nothing but each other.
It was striking.
It had been that way from the very first time, yet instead of fading as time passed, the impression only grew stronger.
And most important of all was the sense that their happiness was slowly seeping into her as she watched them.
Ah, would calling it an infection sound a little negative?
What would be a better way to describe it? Yes—being gradually dyed by it seemed to fit perfectly.
With every step she took toward the restaurant, Ye-eun felt herself slowly taking on that color.
She knew nothing of their beliefs or values.
She wasn't particularly interested, either.
But that overflowing happiness capable of brightening everyone around them was impossible to ignore.
When she reached the restaurant door, she noticed the A-frame sign had changed from yesterday.
The beginning was the same.
Today's Menu
Bibimbap
★ Seia's Special ★
The handwriting and spelling made it instantly clear who had written it, without needing to ask.
The very fact that they didn't know any better.
It was not so rare for ignorance to look cute.
"Bibimbap…."
Memories connected to bibimbap rose up.
They were not particularly special memories.
Bibimbap itself was not a rare dish, and it was a simple meal—just gather the leftover side dishes, toss them into a big bowl with rice and gochujang, and mix.
Perhaps because of that simplicity, nearly everyone probably carried some memory or recollection tied to it.
Some might think of those memories as utterly ordinary, but for others they were a little precious.
There was at least one person who considered them unforgettable.
Coincidentally, Ye-eun belonged to the latter group.
Unforgettable memories.
She had used a magic stone to blow away some of her happiest and saddest memories, yet the ones about bibimbap remained.
After getting off work, she and her little sister would dump all the leftover side dishes into a bowl, make bibimbap, and eat together.
The side dishes were nothing fancy, but when those ordinary things came together they created a surprisingly decent flavor.
"This is… funny."
It felt mysterious and somehow difficult to understand.
If she had seen bibimbap listed on the menu at any other restaurant, would these thoughts have surfaced?
She would not have gone to such a place alone in the first place, and even on the few occasions she had visited restaurants with Guild Leader Park Geon-su, this memory had never risen.
Ye-eun's gaze, fixed on the A-frame sign, drifted slightly upward.
Beyond it, the father and daughter.
Among them, her eyes caught on the child waving her short legs in the air while happily eating something.
If her sister were still alive, she would be ten years old by now.
In Ye-eun's final memory, her sister had been five, and no matter how many decades passed, her sister would remain forever five in her heart.
The sight of children around that age had crossed her mind before, but this was the first time the memory lingered so strongly.
Was that child special?
Or was this restaurant special?
No.
Both of them were special.
The memories of the past that had floated up scattered like smoke the moment the restaurant door opened with a cheerful tinkling bell.
"Welco— Ah. Hello there."
"...Hello."
"Pretty Sis!"
Jungwoo and Seia, who had just finished their own meal, greeted her warmly.
Not because she was a customer, but because this place that connected them to the world always kept smiles on their faces.
"......"
"......"
After her short reply, Ye-eun stood motionless, and Jungwoo and Seia simply looked at her.
Did she have some business with them?
Or was she about to say something important?
Just as the silence hanging over the restaurant began to feel awkward and heavy, Seia moved first.
"Sis. This seat is pretty."
"...Hm?"
For a second Ye-eun wondered what exactly was supposed to be pretty, then remembered yesterday.
Seia had recommended the window seat while the sunset glowed outside, saying the sky was beautiful.
The sky Seia had pointed to had been ordinary, yet the moment she pointed it out, it became special.
Today was no different.
The hour that had passed morning and was racing toward lunch.
It was not a seat bathed in direct sunlight, but one that offered a clear view of the blue sky.
Perhaps the best spot in this modest restaurant.
Even so, Ye-eun did not move.
No—she could not move.
Why…
A memory she had forgotten—no, one she had deliberately erased—had just floated to the surface.
The bright red gochujang smeared around the mouth after eating bibimbap.
It looked like a child who had applied lipstick too broadly, and the image brought her sister back so vividly.
"Sis?"
Seia, watching her with curious eyes, carefully reached out and tugged the sleeve of Ye-eun's coat.
Ye-eun flinched, but the touch helped her snap back to the present.
"Are you okay?"
"Y-yeah. I'm fine."
Even the worried look in those eyes felt familiar.
It was not the sort of gaze one should give to someone they had only met twice—yesterday and this morning.
Seia kept hold of her sleeve and personally escorted Ye-eun all the way to the window table.
Knowing full well that too much force could cause a terrible accident, Ye-eun followed in an awkward half-crouch.
"Sis."
"Yes?"
"Did you come to eat?"
What other reason would bring someone to a restaurant?
When Ye-eun nodded to indicate that was exactly why, Seia pointed at the A-frame sign by the window with a delighted expression.
"Did you see that, Sis?"
"Yes, I saw it."
"Then how about bibi-bap?"
Was bibimbap a special dish for Seia too?
The look on Seia's face as she recommended it held a hint of the same earnestness children have when throwing tantrums—though of course far gentler and softer.
"Bibimbap… should I get that?"
"Yes! Bibi-bap!"
Now that she looked closer, beneath the sign was a neat little star drawn by a small hand, accompanied by crooked, wobbly letters that told a different story.
Seia's homemade bibimbap.
Curiosity stirred inside her.
How exactly had she helped make it?
"All right. I'll have the bibimbap."
"Hehe, okay! Seia will make it right away! Daddy—"
Seia scampered off on quick little legs, calling for her father.
Jungwoo, who had been listening to the whole exchange, smiled and nodded.
"Good. Our Seia can handle it, right?"
"Yes!"
"Let's go!"
"Let's go!"
The father and daughter disappeared into the kitchen, full of energy.
Before long they began dividing the work between them.
Jungwoo fried an egg while Seia neatly arranged rice and ingredients in a bowl.
Seia's mirror was her father.
She placed the rice and toppings exactly as she had seen Jungwoo do earlier.
She even put gochujang and sesame oil in their own small dishes, then arranged everything on a tray until a proper-looking bibimbap took shape.
But that was not the end.
The fried egg Jungwoo had just finished was perfectly soft-cooked.
When he placed it in the center, Seia immediately sprinkled sesame seeds and crushed seaweed over it with practiced little fingers.
"Ta-da!"
"Wow, our Seia did an incredible job!"
"Really? Did Seia do good?"
"Yes, you plated it so beautifully."
"Hehe."
The presentation closely followed Jungwoo's example.
In fact, it looked even better than his.
The way she had arranged even the grains of carrot and spinach with such care made it feel almost like she was creating art through cooking.
Seia… has talent in this area too?
She had never understood parents who bragged about their children, but now it seemed Jungwoo had become one of them.
No—setting that aside, she really had done it well.
Even by purely objective standards, it was impressive.
Well, I suppose that's what bragging about your child looks like.
So what if he bragged?
She simply hoped everyone would come to know how wonderfully talented Seia was.
"It's heavy, so Daddy will carry it."
"Seia wants to go too! Seia helped make it!"
"Haha, all right. Let's go together."
Whether by nature or upbringing, Seia was a child who chose her words and even single syllables with surprising care.
It showed again now.
Not because Seia made it, but because Seia helped make it too.
She had unconsciously understood that she had not created this bibimbap alone, but together with her father, and she expressed that understanding with meaning.
Her handwriting on the sign was still imperfect and her pronunciation slightly slurred, yet in that one aspect of heart, she already seemed more mature than Jungwoo himself.
Together they carried the bibimbap out.
Ye-eun, who had been resting her chin in her hand and staring out the window, naturally turned at the savory aroma.
"Bibimbap is served. Please enjoy."
"Eat it yummy!"
But the presentation did not stop at the bibimbap.
He had originally planned to serve only this for breakfast, yet something had felt missing.
When he realized what it was, he understood: the most important part—the soup—had been absent.
So he added a bowl of seaweed soup in just the right size.
Now it truly felt like a complete, satisfying meal.
Jungwoo returned to the kitchen with a satisfied expression, but Seia stayed behind, watching Ye-eun with sparkling eyes.
"......?"
She seemed to want to watch her eat.
Of course Seia had not made the entire dish, but no one could deny that her touch was present in it.
Learning what had happened in the kitchen was not difficult for Ye-eun.
She had overheard their conversation, after all.
"You really… plated it so beautifully…?"
"Ah…!"
Was that the praise she had most wanted to hear?
A vast wave of pride flooded Seia's shining eyes.
But it did not end there.
As if waiting for one more thing, Seia kept stealing glances in her direction.
She clearly thought she was being sneaky, but Ye-eun noticed every look.
Having judged the appearance, now came the taste.
Mixing the gochujang and sesame oil would normally be enough, but Ye-eun remembered how she used to eat bibimbap.
Adding a few spoonfuls of the accompanying soup made it blend even better.
They say a dish that looks good tastes good, and this bibimbap already promised excellence from sight and aroma alone.
The stickiness of freshly cooked rice and the individual flavors of every ingredient met the perfect canvas of seasoning, painting their colors in beautiful harmony.
A spoonful of seaweed soup when the mouth felt a little dry.
Seia's expression—eager to ask how it was, yet too shy to speak.
"...It's delicious."
So Ye-eun deliberately murmured the words to herself.
That it was delicious.
That it was a truly delicious bowl of bibimbap.