Side Story 2. Perfect Weather (3)

By the time Tae-un turned up the heat and added sliced onions, minced garlic, and green chili peppers to suit Soram's taste into the pot, he had grasped the full details of the incident.

"Then persuading the opposing candidate might be faster. It's just the team members doing this, the person themselves might secretly want to do it."

"She didn't seem keen on it either. It didn't look like she was deliberately declining."

"What about the other team leaders?"

"They seemed completely excited."

"Excited?"

"I don't know. The candidates were railroaded through like this, but not a single person objected."

"Hmm..."

"They all came in cahoots. I'm sure of it."

Lost in thought for a moment, Tae-un opened the lid of the pot that had started to bubble. The smell of well-cooked kimchi spread out. Enough to make Soram, who had skipped dinner, stop grumbling due to the hunger that had come upon him. Adding tofu and green onions on top made it look even more appetizing.

Tae-un patted Soram's buttocks, who was still clinging to him.

"Set out the spoons and rice."

With enough conscience left to help when being fed, Soram slid down from him and scooped rice into the bowls.

The electric rice cooker contained just enough rice left from what they had eaten together for breakfast, and he now knew exactly how much the other person ate. He placed the rice bowls in facing seats and brought spoons, setting them down side by side. They were two pairs with the same design but different colors.

The refrigerator was filled with containers of side dishes in each compartment. He took out a few pickled and vegetable side dishes and opened their lids. The side dishes that had been with the two of them this morning appeared.

"..."

Suddenly, the new life given to him felt real. The sour and savory smell spreading in the dormitory, the warmth hanging in the kitchen.

And the meal for two that had become a natural scene before he knew it.

As Soram sat down, the pot was placed in front of him, and Tae-un came to sit opposite. Soram swallowed his saliva while looking into the pot. He wondered if the National Korean Food Association would try to scout Han Tae-un soon, just like the Rift HQ had.

The brilliant vermilion color inside the pot further fueled this suspicion. The kimchi, which was well-cooked but hadn't completely lost its crunchiness, was infused with meat oil, and conversely, the tender meat was infused with kimchi seasoning. The broth mixed with meat juices flowed over the white tofu. Tae-un wrapped a piece of meat with kimchi and placed it on Soram's rice bowl.

They had exchanged words like 'Are you trying to seduce me with this little thing?' over food before, but today he couldn't help but agree. The sight of the meat surrounded by kimchi approaching was more intense than presenting any decent engagement ring.

Tae-un, who had practiced every holiday and occasionally stood in the kitchen making something while talking to his mother on the phone, had become a skilled expert before he knew it. It was hard to believe this food was made in such a short time.

Moreover, Soram's palate was gradually becoming accustomed to his cooking. After eating his cooking every day, he now looked for this taste even when going to other restaurants. It wasn't just a drizzle, but rain pouring regularly morning and evening, leaving him irreversibly soaked. At this point, there was no choice but to eat deliciously every day

"Shall I make crab soup tomorrow?"

Tae-un made another proposal. Soram nodded without hesitation.

As the delicious food entered his mouth and Tae-un sat across from him, his complicated feelings gradually melted away.

"Right, at least the headquarters votes and Busan branch votes will definitely go to Ga-eul. If other people have any sense, they won't vote for me. There's no need to worry."

That's right. Thinking calmly, the probability of Soram becoming director was slim.

Both the headquarters people and Busan branch people had clearly seen Soram causing all sorts of incidents and running around. Of course, it was hard to say Ga-eul had acted properly either, but she couldn't compare to Soram who had frequented the guard floor like it was his second home in this life.

"I worried for nothing. If Ga-eul becomes director, I should just support her well."

"Well. I wonder about that."

Huh?

"Why do you think all the headquarters people won't vote for you?"

"...Han Tae-un, are you going to vote for me? You... the person who's seen me up closest?"

It was unbelievable. This wasn't a sense of betrayal from a close associate, but doubt about Han Tae-un's cold judgment ability. Even if they were lovers, had his judgment become that clouded? How did you, so intelligent...

"Actually, I am curious about what you'd be like as director."

"Why's that?"

"It's a side of you I don't know. I don't have those memories."

"...You don't need to know. Really."

The nineteenth life. The unusually vivid memory remained clear even as other memories faded. Just recalling it briefly made his fingertips cold. He had taken over after Director Park Jae-seon's death, so how bad must the situation have been?

Also, thinking about his relationship with Tae-un then, their current state was truly a miracle.

"The only use for that memory now is to assist Director Park when he becomes the agency director. That's something I really definitely..."

Definitely... uh... Soram trailed off, pressing his forehead with the handle of his chopsticks. Sensing something was off, Tae-un leaned across the table, bringing his body closer.

"What's wrong?"

"..."

Soram blinked several times. Then he raised his head. Uh, what was it...

"Are you feeling sick somewhere?"

"Ah, no. I just blanked out for a moment. This must be from stress. So vote for Kim Ga-eul."

"If there are two candidates, wouldn't someone with experience be a bit better?"

"I can't do it! I'll cause trouble and get arrested! From director level, they're high-ranking officials so they don't even send you to the guard floor. You really get taken to judicial institutions."

"It's okay. If I put my prosecutor position on the line, I can get you out once."

"Huh?"

Could it be he returned to school for that pur- No, surely not.

"Even if it's not that, I'm genuinely curious about the headquarters you'd create as director. I'm sure there are others who think like me too."

"No... It's nothing special. I'm sure. You're thinking wrong."

Tae-un just shrugged his shoulders. Soram's eyes wavered. In a situation where every vote was important, he was in danger of being blindsided by the vote of the person he considered his closest confidant.

"You, who are you really going to vote for? You're not, right? Say you're not."

"Korea is a country that guarantees the secrecy of voting."

"No! Don't vote for me!"

Even while conversing, their spoons moved busily, and before they knew it, the bowls in front of them were emptied clean. Instead of answering the chirping not to vote for him, Tae-un stood up with both of their empty bowls. Soram also got up from his seat, grabbing him as he headed to the sink.

"I'll do the dishes."

"I'm faster. The pot came out too, and we used a lot of seasoning."

Unable to deny that his housekeeping skills lagged behind Tae-un's, Soram had no choice but to take charge of cleaning up the table.

Of course, no matter how slowly Soram moved while glancing at Tae-un, the task he was in charge of would finish faster than the dishwashing. Soram sat back at the table and watched Tae-un's back as he washed the dishes.

Old memories naturally faded bit by bit. But even if the scenes blurred, the intense emotions felt at that time remained.

The life where the "Director Jin Soram" Tae-un mentioned existed was the worst round for Soram. He obsessively didn't let anyone approach, rejecting both goodwill and hostility, curled up alone within his own walls. After Director Park Jae-seon died and he took over that position, he isolated himself even more.

It was all dark. There was never a light on ahead of where his steps were headed, and he believed that the cold emptiness without human presence rather gave him relief.

Becoming like this with Tae-un now made that a darker memory than any other round where he had met a dog's death. Because Han Tae-un was the one he had put up the strongest walls against and bristled at the most back then.

Han Tae-un, you were hit by the documents I threw at least ten times...

That was probably because Tae-un kept trying to approach him.

A brightly lit room, clear presence of others, cooking utensils that would never have been allowed in the room, and the smell of food. Was that why this still felt amazing? How many more times would he have to feel this to get used to it?

"Soram-ah, can you get me that?"

Tae-un, who had been washing dishes, was now looking at him. When he asked "Huh?" in response, Tae-un pointed to the seasoning dish on the counter that hadn't been collected yet. Soram quickly got up and put the dish in the sink.

"What are you thinking about so deeply?"

"It's nothing..."

"It's nothing" was indeed the most effective answer to deepen the furrow between Tae-un's brows. It would be impossible to brush it off. Soram mixed a suitable amount of lies and truth.

"I was wondering if I've ever lived a life where I didn't cook for myself even once until now."

"Did you just eat out all the time?"

"Well. I did mostly get by alone..."

He fell into thought, having to trace even the blurred memories of other rounds. At least... in that damned nineteenth life, he seemed to have eaten alone most of the time unless it was a meal for work.

"Never mind. I shouldn't have asked. Don't try to recall on purpose."

The thread of his thoughts was cut off by Tae-un's voice.

"Whether you did or didn't, what does it matter? I'm going to keep feeding you from now on."

Shwaaa. Water poured over the dish Soram had brought. Watching the clumped red seasoning wash away, it felt like his complicated mind was also being cleaned in the same way.

What replaced it was a rippling sensation like sitting on waves. The impulse to hold onto Han Tae-un, to touch him. The heart-pounding brought by heightened emotions.