As I walked home from Rodeo Street, September loomed closer with every step.
September means the cusp of autumn, and when you think of autumn, you think of Chuseok.
Chuseok means holidays, and holidays mean festive food.
And when you think of festive food…
Images of middle-aged public officials occupying a corner of a restaurant kitchen popped into my mind.
Hmm, that definitely isn’t right.
I realized I’ve been picturing those gatherings during Seollal or Chuseok, where relatives gather in the living room, flipping pancakes, more than the actual festive meals.
What started as a magical girl holiday gathering plan that seemed like it would last just one or two years unexpectedly prolonged over time and was creeping up on a decade.
We first started this when we were in the first grade, so it’s been 7 years already.
This Chuseok, it seemed the Minister was less busy, as we were able to see her again at the restaurant we often visited during the holidays.
The men who used to gradually pop up were now vanishing, while those who had been absent suddenly appeared.
“Brother Sawung? He retired about two months ago.”
“Oh, is that so…”
He was one of the uncles who took us to Sokcho back in elementary school.
Hearing that he retired two months ago brought a strange sensation of loss, even though we weren’t particularly close.
As one familiar face goes, new faces appear.
In both the magical girl and public official circles, new member welcome parties began, albeit in different vibes.
It was essentially a casual gathering.
The mid-level official in charge of Cheorwon, Eun-joo, greeted everyone.
Maybe it was the deep-rooted Confucian philosophy, but just being a year older prompted them to call her “Sister.”
Since the location was what it was, there were people who hadn’t seen each other from before and it felt like a late welcome for new members.
“Hey, there must be a ton of soldiers there, right?”
“Yeah, if you’re bored, you’ll see them.”
“Aren’t there some handsome soldiers?”
“Well, I’m not sure? They all seem pretty shaven…”
The conversation amongst the women was lively, resembling a floral garden atmosphere with a cheerful mood.
In contrast…
“Goodness, who made these Songpyeon like this?!”
“Gah!”
The Minister’s thick reprimands resonated all over the kitchen, having transformed over the years into a rather intense initiation process for newcomers.
I wondered how it felt for the uncles in their forties or fifties to have their backs reprimanded.
Before I knew it, the Minister’s hair began to reflect more white than black.
The slight hunch of her back signified that perhaps she was no longer suited for sitting and working.
In any case, following the Minister’s robust criticisms, dishes were filled one by one.
The quality of the food, which had been decent seven years ago, had climbed up year after year to the point where it could easily gain popularity in a market.
Noodles glistening as if drenched in oil, stir-fried glass noodles, thick-cut ribs drenched in sauce that could convince anyone to just mix rice with the sauce and call it a meal.
Colorful jellyfish salad adorned in red spicy sauce, appealing braised crab, and various pancakes perfectly coated in egg.
And a hot pot filled with dumpling soup and an array of side dishes that seemed to surpass even the typical festive households.
“It’s all done!”
With the sound of the ladle hitting the pot and the uncle’s shout, our attention turned to the kitchen.
“Let’s eat!”
One by one, everyone rose from their lounging spots on the floor, heading to grab wide bowls near the food containers.
Everyone gathered in front of their favorite dishes, collecting heaps of their preferred food and steaming white rice to occupy the long table.
First, a chopstick full of the glistening glass noodles.
They slid down a bit more rigidly than ramen, with noodles and ingredients disappearing into my mouth.
With a texture that felt both slippery yet sticky, accompanied by the unique salty flavor of Korean cuisine created by the combination of soy sauce and sesame oil, I naturally grabbed a piece of rice with my chopsticks and brought it to my mouth.
This combination was simply irresistible…
“Oh, oh my… how does it taste?”
The Minister, leaning down and making groaning noises as she joined us at the table.
This restaurant had become the magical girls’ holiday culinary haven.
The food made by the uncles seven years prior had been passable, but now I could confidently declare that it was delicious without anyone voicing a dissenting opinion.
“It’s delicious.”
“Wow, if Mari says it’s good… we’ve come a long way!”
As I straightforwardly praised the meal’s taste, the Minister suddenly self-congratulated, claiming they had improved a lot.
Wait, I’m not that hard to please!
It felt like she was teasing me, so I spoke back gruffly with my chopsticks in my mouth.
“What do you mean?”
“Look at you… you said the glass noodles were too salty once.”
“That was just what others said too…”
The Minister seemed to be painting me as someone with picky tastes.
But at the time, everyone made that comment just once, and I was merely relaying the message to the Minister…
Still, when was this incident again?
It was when some uncle mistakenly used soy sauce in the water for boiling glass noodles.
“No, when did that happen… it was three years ago.”
And, that was a whole three years back.
Upon hearing the flow of excuses that could be labeled as the truth, the Minister tilted her head.
“Three years? Has it already been that long…?”
“Why am I the only strange one?”
“Sorry, I’m forgetful at this age.”
The Minister, apologizing with a lowered posture in her previously intense tone, felt notably less fierce than before.
The once frugal aunt who pinched every penny seemed to have transformed into just a kind grandmother across the table.
Now, she openly apologized like that and couldn’t even engage in any back-and-forth arguments.
Feeling unexpectedly deflated, I questioned the Minister in a tone that implied it hadn’t always been like this.
“Why have you become so gentle?”
“…Because this is the last time we see each other like this.”
With a clatter of cutlery hitting the table, the Minister dropped a bombshell.
“What?!”
A few magical girls who had built a closer rapport with the Minister widened their eyes in shock.
While I somewhat anticipated it, hearing it made me equally speechless.
The winds of change brought by the passage of time had began to influence our daily lives.
What had been a cheerful atmosphere at the restaurant suddenly turned solemn.
Over the prospect of the Minister, who had been a long-time acquaintance, leaving, even the magical girls who had grown to adulthood were panicking.
“What are we going to do…?”
“What do you mean, what? Just do as you’ve always done.”
While gently patting the backs of the twenty-something girls who were on the verge of crying, the Minister smiled warmly, saying it’s not a big deal since only the people will change.
Feeling a little attached despite also having some grievances, I decided to smile back as we bid her farewell.
As we shared individual goodbyes, I caught the Minister glancing my way.
“Mari, you better not give the next Minister a hard time, okay?”
Perhaps because she still hadn’t fully cooled down, the Minister’s tone carried a hint of sarcasm.
Since I couldn’t respond with a straightforwardly offensive tone in this heartwarming atmosphere, I timidly shot back.
“I always return what I receive.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s nice to know you’re so consistent.”
That night in the restaurant, thick with the smell of holiday food.
As we lay around in various positions, I unexpectedly found myself sleeping close to the Minister.
Beside me was of course Siyeon, and on the other side was Eun-joo, the Cheorwon magical girl.
It was an oddly sentimental night.
In the dim restaurant, I spoke toward the Minister.
“Either way, you’ve had a tough time.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
The Minister’s hand, gently ruffling my hair in response to my acknowledgment of her hard work, felt particularly warm that day.
After three such strokes, her hand pulled away…
It seemed the Minister too, was becoming quite emotional and she murmured quietly.
“Strangely, it’s always the troublemaking kids like you, Mari, who stick in my memory more than the obedient ones.”
In fact, school teachers also tend to have similar sentiments.
They remember the kids that cause trouble and give them headaches rather than the well-behaved ones.
Wait, does that mean I’m the troublemaker?
I’ve been living quite quietly lately.
‘Or maybe not?’
Oh, well, the time I crashed a protest for the animal protection society with a monster surely became big news.
Just as I was pondering the reflections of my actions…
“What’s the next Minister like?”
Unable to fall asleep, Siyeon, lying next to me, asked, filled with curiosity.
The Minister paused for a moment, letting out a long hum of hesitation before summarizing without a notable unique characteristic.
“Young.”
“Not age-wise, I mean…”
“Young, like when I was young.”
When I pointed out there were no features besides age, that bombshell came out suddenly again.
How should I put it, it was a half-serious, half-joking remark.
“Whoa, that’s a big deal.”
“Hahaha.”
Just as my words ended, laughter erupted from the far side of the room.
Her comment about the next Minister resembling her younger self made me inadvertently laugh out loud.
“Who just laughed?!”
The Minister shot up from her resting place, searching for the source of that laughter.
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