I am back – Chapter 209

The doenjang jjigae was delicious.

No matter how ordinary the stew might be, and even if it didn’t have any special ingredients, the taste can change depending on who makes it. The flavor varies based on how much of each ingredient is used, how much water is added, and how long it’s boiled.

Yet, there are people who often disregard those proportions. They think, “How different can it really be? It’s all just the same whoever cooks it anyway.”

I can firmly say that’s wrong.

The doenjang jjigae my mom made was… exactly the doenjang jjigae I remembered.

There’s definitely a taste to home-cooked meals, isn’t there?

When you say “home-cooked meal,” it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what flavor it is, but once you start eating at home, that taste comes rushing back to your mind. You think, “Ah, this is the taste of the meals my mom used to make.” Even side dishes and soups that you can also find in other restaurants seem to take on a different flavor altogether.

…Thinking back, isn’t that feeling what I first experienced when I returned to this side?

After eating only the food of another world, consisting of things like salted meats and super hard biscuits, I craved to try everything when I came back. Even after tasting various dishes since then, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was still something I wanted to eat but couldn’t get my hands on.

That food probably consisted of the meals I had at home before going to the other world.

“…It’s delicious.”

“Really?”

As I muttered that after taking a bite, my mom, who had been watching me, responded with a questioning tone.

I nodded at her and repeated, “It’s delicious.”

After that, there was no need for further words.

The food my friends made was definitely delicious too. Dana’s dishes that she created from recipes of this world could be said to carry her unique touch, and the Irrelaysia-style food made by my other friends could also be considered ‘home-cooked meals’ from my second hometown.

However, nothing could compare to the food I had grown up eating.

I’ve heard many people struggle to find food that suits their palate when they first travel abroad, and I think that’s because they’re accustomed to the flavors they enjoyed during childhood.

There may be differences between Eastern and Western cuisine, but regardless of that, it’s unforgettable because it’s the home cooking one got used to from a young age. Even while staying in a foreign land, no matter how delicious the local cuisine may be, there are certain dishes that become too difficult to resist thinking about.

Still, I did make an effort not to look too ugly doing it.

It was finally the day I was reunited with my mom, as her son. I wanted to show a slightly dignified side. Even though I was no longer her ‘son,’ I still wanted to present a respectable image.

“…”

My mom was watching me intently while I ate.

Pretending to eat leisurely, I suddenly hesitated with my spoon.

“Ah, um…”

I glanced at my mom and asked, “Aren’t you going to eat, Mom?”

“Ah, right.”

After hearing my question, Mom seemed to realize she had forgotten to eat.

“Yes, I’ll eat. You should hurry and eat too.”

After I saw her lift her chopsticks, I felt relaxed enough to begin eating again.

*

Honestly, at first, I thought it was just a lie.

That… video, if I had to call it that. Even after seeing a scene so fantastical and almost cinematic, that was my thought. Did they prepare this just to deceive me?

If my dead son, the one who died right in front of me, was truly alive and meeting me now, I might have believed it if it had only been a short time since Siyun died. Because I’d have wanted to grasp onto something, even if I knew it was a lie.

But it’s been five years… no, it’s almost six now. Just a few months until the anniversary.

How many could believe that a son who had died so long ago has come back now as a girl?

But there was a strange point.

Why was this so adamant?

I… succeeded. It can’t be solely attributed to my own strength; my friend Yoori helped a lot.

Now, I was living in a place far better than before, and the money I made was at a level one could call considerable. But that didn’t mean I had to go through these elaborate lies.

If Ayun was lying with me… If it was a lie born out of love, that’s one thing.

But is there really a reason to deceive me by showing a technology that seems like a miracle, which any company would promote massively? If such technology existed, they could just sell it directly to a large corporation.

Even if that desperate act was just a performance.

And then, there was an even more shocking scene.

Seeing a door open in the air, and four people crawling out, I was left at a loss for words.

It really felt like I couldn’t describe it at all.

If they were putting on a show, those people all looked genuinely desperate. What could be the reason for going this far for a girl who shares the same name as my dead son, Siyun?

…Yeah, I know. Just believe what that video shows. If the child really saved the world like in the video, and if those companions were truly a part of that journey, I honestly thought that could be possible.

But still, I foolishly couldn’t bring myself to trust this child.

It’s the persistent heart of a parent, or whatever people say. Even now.

That might be why I said I wanted to believe.

“…”

After a brief moment, while watching the child, thoughts of Siyun kept flooding back into my mind.

Is it because her name is Siyun? Because this child insists she is Siyun? Is that why those thoughts keep creeping in?

Maybe that’s it.

However, despite that, I could see traces of Siyun in this child.

“Are you not going to eat, Mom?”

The way she grabbed the spoon. Siyun, when he was little, had developed a slightly different chopstick grip due to my failure to pay enough attention.

The flicks of her hand whenever her long bangs obscured her vision, and her movements when she sat down in a chair.

Each little mannerism that I often would not notice became evident as I watched her closely.

As I was slowly remembering Siyun while observing this child, that child asked me.

“Aren’t you going to eat, Mom?”

Right. That phrase might be something every other mom has heard too. It’s so common that someone might think it’s not significant enough to identify their child by it.

But hearing those words, I was reminded of Siyun completely.

…The Siyun in the photos doesn’t speak. The Siyun in the videos can’t answer me.

So, no matter how much I see that Siyun in media, I could never fully recall the real Siyun.

This dish was something Siyun loved; this drink was one he enjoyed. Even when I think of those things, and even when I visualize Siyun before me, it still felt strange and awkward somewhere.

The reason is simple. The real Siyun was not in front of me.

Even when recalling the image of Siyun who should have been sitting right here in front of me, I couldn’t fully remember it. And that issue became clearer and clearer with time. Like rocks eroded by time and sandstorms, eventually only their vague forms remain.

However, the Siyun in front of me now,

Every movement, every word brought Siyun to my mind.

“Ah, yes, I’ll eat.”

I spoke to Siyun as I picked up my chopsticks.

“Eat up.”

Only then did Siyun stop glancing at me and start eating.

When he was little, he would make that kind of expression whenever I piled delicious side dishes for him, or pushed the fried chicken over to him, or when I offered him a fish-shaped bread or steamed bun. He’d look at me anxiously, and wouldn’t eat until I took a bite first.

“….”

Is it possible to dismiss it all as simply ‘something between a parent and child like anyone else might share’?

But one thing was certain.

Strangely enough, watching Siyun eat made my heart warm.

Maybe this was why Ayun came to accept this child as Siyun.

Throughout the meal, I hardly paid attention to how the food tasted.

*

Still, Siyun couldn’t stay over at my place.

I needed to get back to work starting tomorrow, and Siyun and Ayun were in the same boat.

I stood at the entrance, quietly observing Siyun.

I couldn’t believe it.

Just earlier today, I couldn’t see Siyun as Siyun.

After just one meal, I simply decided that I would believe.

No, maybe it wasn’t just because of dinner.

I had continued watching Siyun up close. We talked together.

I shared the pictures I’d saved on my phone of Siyun while we exchanged stories, laughed, and cried.

So.

I probably, even if I see Siyun again in the future,

Will slowly come to believe, not with suspicion, but bit by bit.

“…”

Seeing Siyun looking at me anxiously from the entrance, I finally opened my mouth.

“Siyun.”

“Yeah?”

“…You came back well.”

“…Ah.”

At my words, Siyun soon wore an expression as if she might burst into tears.

And that expression was one I felt I had seen before.

“…Yeah, Mom.”

Eventually, Siyun spoke while shedding a tear.

“I’m back.”

I hugged that Siyun.

Though she had shrunk compared to the Siyun I once knew,

The warmth felt just like when I held Siyun before.

That wasn’t just a thought; it was my own kind of certainty.