The calendar, from June flowed like a calm river to the edge of August.
Jin-na’s house, tucked into a peaceful neighborhood, was alive with the warm hum of family on a Tuesday evening—a tradition she had vehemently protected since her sons, Nari and Seon-woo, had moved out.
The dining table, a sturdy piece of oak polished with age and care, was laden with earthenware bowls.
Steam curled upwards from them, carrying the tantalizing aroma of doenjang-jjigae, galbi, and an assortment of banchan.
Each dish was prepared with meticulous care, the kind of attention only Jin-na could provide.
Despite the staff kept her household running smoothly, the kitchen was her domain, a sanctuary where she performed what she saw as a sacred duty as if the food should somehow nourish their souls.
As Seon-woo took a bite of the galbi, his face lit up.
‘Mom, this is delicious,’ he said, his voice tinged with boyish enthusiasm that belied his otherwise composed demeanor.
Jin-na smiled with the faint pride of a general surveying a conquered field.
‘Thank you, Seon-woo.
You know, someday we could cook this together if you’d like.
It’s not too much for a man to know how to cook.’ The statement was simple, said with warmth and without malice, but it struck a familiar chord.
A quiet hung over the table for a moment, a pause thickened by years of familial dynamics.
Nari, contrary to his cautious nature, broke the silence.
Her voice was measured but carried an undercurrent of challenge.
‘It shouldn’t be ‘too much,’ Mom.
It should be natural.
For anyone.
Regardless of their gender.’ Jin-na’s gaze shifted to her daughter, her features momentarily clouded by a shadow of resignation.
This was not the first time Nari had pushed back against her worldview, nor would it be the last.
‘Let’s not start this discussion again, Nari.
You have your beliefs, and I have mine.’ Nari’s lips tightened.
She reached for the kimchi.
The air between mother and daughter remained taut, though not entirely unfriendly.
It was an unspoken truce, the kind that only families could navigate.
Jin-na loved her children, but sometimes their modern ways felt like a world apart from her own.
Nari, with her progressive independence, often challenged Jin-na’s traditional values.
Seon-woo, ever the peacekeeper, seemed caught between worlds, eager to please but also quietly forging his own path.
After a while of silence Nari decided pressed on.
‘Don’t you see?
The issue of sexism persists because women think like you.
You act as though a man cooking is commendable, like a rare occurrence, instead of something basic—something integral to coexistence.’ Seon-woo exchanged a look with his mother, silently begging for a subject change.
Jin-na was happy to oblige.
Jin-na sighed, waving her hand as though dismissing a persistent fly.
‘How is everything going at the company, Seon-woo?’ Seon-woo glanced at his sister before answering.
‘As if you don’t already know everything, Mom.’ ‘But I want to hear it from you,’ Jin-na replied.
He shrugged, a gesture heavy with unspoken complaints.
‘Last quarter was better than this one.
There’s always a boost in book sales around Christmas, though.
We’ve signed new writers, but the older ones are becoming… difficult.’ ‘Difficult how?’ Nari asked, her curiosity piqued.
‘They’re making absurd demands in their contracts.
It’s exhausting.’ Jin-na nodded knowingly.
‘Writers can be temperamental.
But you need to be patient.
Without good writers, an editorial company doesn’t exist.’ Seon-woo raised an eyebrow, his voice taking on a playful lilt.
‘Nari’s an artist, and she’s not capricious.’ ‘That’s because Nari is a thoughtful artist,’ Jin-na replied, casting her daughter a proud look.
‘Speaking of which, Nari, how’s Choi Eu-jin?
I hear he’s settled in.’ Nari shrugged casually.
her lips curled into a small, private smile.
‘He didn’t really need my help.
Choi Eu-jin’s outgoing—he fits in everywhere.’ ‘Outgoing, huh?’ Seon-woo teased.
‘Funny how ‘outgoing’ hasn’t stopped him from spending all his time with you.
Every time I visit Sang-in, he mentions you two are somewhere.’ Nari waved him off, though her cheeks warmed imperceptibly.
‘We’re just friends.
He’s smart and funny, and easy to talk to.
That’s all.’ Jin-na, remembering her friend Nam Ji-yeon’s advice about reversed psychology, leaned forward slightly.
‘Well, you should think carefully, Nari.
There might be better men out there for you.’ Her words fell like a plant from a building, little stones spreading through the room.
Both Seon-woo and Nari held, startled by the unexpected comment.
‘What?’ they said in unison.
‘I’m just saying,’ Jin-na replied, feigning innocence, though a sly undertone betrayed her.
‘Maybe Eu-jin isn’t good enough for my Nari.’ Seon-woo looked at her, utterly baffled.
‘I don’t understand.’ ‘Me neither,’ Nari added.
‘What happen with my ‘tic-tac’ now?
Let’s change the subject before she drives me insane.’ She turned to her brother.
‘Do you have an afternoon off next week?’ ‘I’ll be traveling,’ he said, still dazed from their mother’s unexpected remark.
‘Why?’ ‘My Spanish exchange friend is arriving tomorrow,’ Nari explained, her words carrying the weight of implicit intentions.
‘I thought the three of us could meet.
She’ll want to meet more Korean people, not just me.’ ‘I’ll be gone for two weeks.
Back on the 17th.’ Nari’s face fell momentarily, then lit up with resolve.
‘She leaves on the 18th.
Let’s meet that day.
Flights to Europe are usually at night.’ Seon-woo leaned back, studying her with a hint of suspicion.
‘Why so much insistence?’ ‘No reason,’ Nari replied too quickly, avoiding his eyes.
‘You’re acting weird lately,’ he muttered, shaking his head.
… BCN Dong-hyun navigated his car through the jam with ease, he knew that once he got to the Ronda de dalt the traffic at that time would be less intense.
Beside him, in the passenger seat, Sara fidgeted endlessly, her fingers flitting from the window button to the air conditioning dial as if trying to smooth the edges of her anxious thoughts.
Dong-hyun glanced at her with a wry smile.
‘You seem nervous, as if it were your first trip alone.’ ‘I’m not nervous,’ Sara replied quickly, her words a little too swift to be true.
‘Well, maybe a little excited.
It’s been so many years since I last went to Korea.
I just…’ She paused, her gaze distant, as though searching for the right words ‘I hope I haven’t built up too many expectations.’ He chuckled softly, his eyes briefly leaving the road to glance at her.
‘You can’t avoid that.
If we made a trip without expectations, then it would be better to stay home.
Besides, with your dreamy nature, how could you not?’ Sara gave a noncommittal hum, leaning her forehead against the window.
The cool glass seemed to calm her restless thoughts for a moment.
‘Do you have plans for every day yet?’ Dong-hyun asked.
‘And have you told your aunt you’re going?’ Sara shook her head.
‘Not yet.
I didn’t want her to feel obligated to invite me over out of politeness.
Since you’re not coming, I’m not planning a big family visit.
I’ll text her while I wait for my flight.
Maybe suggest meeting up one day if it suits her.’ He glanced at her again, this time with a faint sternness, a fatherly edge that always seemed to emerge in moments like these.
‘Please make sure you do.
She’s my sister.’ ‘I will,’ Sara assured him, her tone softening as she met his eyes.
‘Don’t worry.
She’s the only family we have there.
I won’t forget.’ Dong-hyun shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable.
The weight of those words lingered for a moment, pressing gently against the air between them.
Then, almost as if to chase it away, Dong-hyun changed the subject.
‘So, what’s the plan?
What do you want to see?’ Sara smiled, her thoughts drifting to the meticulously detailed plans she and Nari had made.
‘Nari and I have been planning it a little…’ ‘A little?’ Dong-hyun raised an eyebrow, a playful edge to his voice.
‘I’ve seen the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on your office door grow bigger and bigger these past few weeks.
What on earth have you been talking about for so long?’ ‘I’m teaching her Spanish.’ Sara replied with mock indignation, though her grin gave her away.
‘I doubt you’re studying Spanish the whole time.’ he teased, shaking his head.
‘Fine,’ she admitted.
‘Spanish and other things.
Mostly, I’ll stay in Seoul.
Nari and I are planning a few short trips by car, and when she has to work, I’ll head to Jeju´s Island for a few days on my own.’ At the mention of Jeju´s island, Dong-hyun’s expression softened, his eyes momentarily misted with a tenderness drawn from long-forgotten days.
‘I love Jeju.
Do you remember when we went with Mom when you were a child?’ ‘Yes,’ Sara said with nostalgia.
‘I’ve been looking at photos these past few weeks.
I think I can find the place in one of them.’ ‘You will,’ Dong-hyun said confidently.
‘Just try to enjoy yourself.
Don’t think about work too much.
And come back soon.’ Sara laughed lightly, her nervousness giving way to a brief moment of levity.
‘Maybe if I like it, I’ll stay there.’ Dong-hyun shook his head with a smile that was both indulgent and immovable.
‘Not even in your dreams.
Your home is here now.’ The car slowed to a stop at the airport’s drop-off area.
Sara unbuckled her seatbelt and reached for her suitcase, but Dong-hyun was already out of the car, retrieving it from the trunk with practiced ease.
He handed it to her and pulled her into a brief, warm embrace, his hands resting reassuringly on her shoulders.
‘Take care,’ he said softly, patting her back as if sealing his words with an invisible signature.
‘I will,’ she replied, her voice steady now, the weight of her excitement tempered by the warmth of his presence.
As she turned and walked toward the terminal, her suitcase rolling smoothly behind her, Dong-hyun watched her go, his heart heavy.
Sara’s figure grew smaller in the distance, eventually swallowed by the blur of travelers bustling toward their own destinations.
… After many hours and thousands of kilometers, Sara stepped off the plane with the weight of the journey etched on her face, a weariness tempered by a current of excitement.
The vast hall of Incheon Airport seemed alive, not merely with the motion of travelers but with a swirl of memories she had almost forgotten.
Kim Nari stood just beyond the arrival gate, her eyes darting from face to face with the precision of a metal detector.
She clutched her bag as though it might anchor her in place, but her spirit was already stretching forward, anticipating the moment of meeting.
‘Rameyon!
Cheong Sara!’ Nari called out, her voice cutting through the chaos like a sound Sara hadn’t realized she’d been waiting to hear.
Sara turned, her face breaking into a smile so radiant it seemed to draw a circle of light around her in the crowd.
She adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and made her way toward Nari, her steps quickening with each passing second.
‘Hola,’ Nari greeted, the word slipping from her mouth with an endearing awkwardness.
‘Hello,’ Sara replied, her voice trembling with equal parts joy and nervousness.
They stood there for a moment, caught in the awkwardness of deciding whether to shake hands or embrace.
Their hands twitched as though they’d shake hands, but then their shoulders moved forward as if for a hug.
The indecision dissolved into laughter, breaking the tension.
‘I was already counting the minutes,’ Nari admitted, her words tumbling out in a rush.
‘Did you have a good trip?’ Sara rubbed her eyes, the fatigue she had shed earlier catching up with her now, though her smile remained undimmed.
‘Yes, but I couldn’t sleep.
I got hooked on a movie, then another.
Now I’m a little sleepy.’ ‘This afternoon, we’ll stay at home so you can rest,’ Nari offered.
‘No way!’ Sara exclaimed, shaking her head with a vigor that belied her weariness.
‘If it’s okay with you, I’d like to go out for a while.
I need to see Seoul again.’ Nari hesitated, her mind weighing the practicality of Sara’s request against the tiredness she saw in her eyes.
At last, she nodded, her expression brightening.
‘What do you think if we take a panoramic tour by car, have dinner, and then head back home?’ ‘Good plan!
With very, very spicy food?’ Sara teased playfully.
‘Of course,’ Nari replied, laughing.
… Seoul unfurled before them in a scene of light and life, present and past were intertwined with unusual courage still harmonious.
In Nari’s car, they drove through streets illuminated the glow reflected in the gleaming windows of skyscrapers, while in the distance, the silhouettes of ancient palaces stood quietly.
The car windows were rolled down.
Sara leaned against the window.
‘I missed Seoul a lot,’ she murmured, her voice filled with emotion.
‘You were born here, right?’ Nari asked, stealing a glance at her.
‘Yes,’ Sara said, her gaze fixed on the city rushing past.
‘But when I turned one-year-old, we moved to Italy.
We used to visit family here almost every year.’ Her voice grew quieter, a shadow of nostalgia creeping into her tone.
She bit her lip as if to trap the sentiment before it overwhelmed her, but then her expression brightened with an almost childlike enthusiasm.
Without warning, she leaned farther out the window, her hair catching the wind as she shouted ‘Seoul!!!
How could I have been without seeing you for so long?’ Her voice rang out, bouncing off the buildings and melting into the city’s din.
Nari laughed, a sound filled with joy, her head tilting back as if the sheer exuberance of the moment could carry her as well.