[Samgyetang, huh.]
No matter how much time passes, that flavor is simply impossible to forget.
The samgyetang arrived at the table still bubbling away in its clay pot, a whole chicken rising from the milky white broth like some great rocky island.
A gentle nudge with chopsticks and the skin slid right off.
The meat parted from the bone and tumbled into the broth together with a great sticky mass of glutinous rice — like a glacier calving in the first warmth of spring.
Collapse, and become a symbol of happiness.
After dinner came the hard work of moving.
Yoshiiro Chiose had seemingly boundless strength. With just a crook of her finger, she was already hauling away bags of luggage that Soyo couldn't have budged on her own.
Soyo felt that she could lean on this person forever.
"Things have been going well lately, I take it? There's a lot more food in the fridge now." Yoshiiro Chiose opened the refrigerator door, and the ghost of a memory surfaced — the barren fridge from a year ago, the nearly empty jam jar beside it, the dried-out stick of bread.
"Lately things have been great, really. Mama doesn't come home much, but the household has gotten so much more comfortable, I... I'm doing just fine."
Material comforts were growing, and Soyo believed her heart was growing alongside them.
Yet even as the words [I'm doing just fine] left her lips, the hollow feeling inside her refused to stay hidden.
Was she... really doing just fine?
There was always enough food and drink. The broken light fixtures and faulty wiring had all been repaired. The days when a tiny orange bulb on the dining table was their only source of light seemed like a distant memory now.
What on earth was there to be dissatisfied with? A life like this...
"Is it that your mother keeps drifting further away from you?"
Chiose had been tucking the last of Soyo's clothes into the luggage. Crouched on the floor, she turned her head — and saw Nagasaki Soyo fidgeting with her own small hands.
This child could never hide what was on her mind.
"Eh? Ah... Chiose-mama... how did you know?"
Yoshiiro Chiose let her eyes narrow slightly.
She wanted to say, [A child who was never properly loved always ends up like this — honestly, are you dense?] — but she didn't say that.
"Because I can see the sadness on your face, little Soyo."
To leave such a small child to grow up entirely on her own — to give her what amounted to cold neglect during the very years she needed love most — Miss Nagasaki had no solution for it, only the ability to press on, mistake layered upon mistake.
Miss Nagasaki was gambling that Soyo could adapt on her own. Or perhaps she hadn't consciously thought it through at all — somewhere beneath the surface, she had simply taken it for granted.
But Yoshiiro Chiose was different.
She would not allow Miss Nagasaki's mistake to perpetuate this cold neglect that was not, strictly speaking, cold neglect at all.
"As I keep telling you — I see my own shadow in you. Don't be sad. Tonight we go home, do a big clean, set up the room properly, and I'll sleep over with you. Tomorrow I'll take you out for a whole day of fun — what do you say?"
"Eh? Really?!" Nagasaki Soyo's joy was tentative even in its expression. She adored Chiose-mama's company, but the moment she thought about how that company was only ever temporary, she would sink again...
"Don't overthink it. I promise you, Little Soyo — from now on, I'll set aside at least one full day every week just for you. How does that sound?"
"Really? But..."
"If I say I'll have time for you, I'll have time for you."
"Any time you run into trouble, just come to me, alright? Well... Miss Nagasaki has a lot of pressure at work, so helping out her daughter is only natural."
"And besides..."
Chiose scooped little Soyo up into the air the way she always did — and was surprised to find that this child had grown so much she was nearly too heavy to lift.
Nagasaki Soyo didn't resist. She stayed very still, feeling Yoshiiro Chiose breathe warmly against her ear, her whole body trembling without her being able to stop it.
"...Little Soyo is my daughter too, you know. Of course I should spend time with my own daughter."
Spend time with her own daughter — that was only natural? But my real mother, she...
"I'm different," Chiose said, as though she could read minds, coaxing her own colors into Soyo's heart little by little.
"Little Soyo — I will absolutely never disappoint you. I made you a promise a long, long time ago, and it still stands, so let me say it again: I will answer your call, again and again and again, no matter what. Trust me a little more, okay?"
"Mmph... okay!"
How was anyone supposed to guard against this? How was anyone supposed to look away?
When a mature older sister leans down to a little girl's ear and says something like that in a voice that sounds just like a mother's — what happens next is perfectly obvious, isn't it.
Nagasaki Soyo felt her face go scarlet, her ears practically steaming, her brain scorched and spinning, stars beginning to dance before her eyes.
The very same stars that lived in Chiose-mama's eyes.
"You're so adorable, little Soyo."
Soft and wobbly as a little pudding cup. Sure enough, a daughter poached directly from a best friend turned out to be the most endearing kind.
As was her custom, Chiose pressed a light kiss to Soyo's cheek and watched her short-circuit all over again. In a place Soyo couldn't see, Yoshiiro Chiose's smile grew warmer and more delighted.
[I blaze like the midday sun — you know you can't do without me,]
[But if you fly too close without thinking, you may well get burned,]
[Don't let yourself get addicted to me — because once I'm gone, you'll find the whole world has lost its color.]
Chiose had a potent afterglow. Every single meeting was like pouring some mysterious elixir straight into Soyo.
Only seeing Chiose ever brought that deep sense of total satisfaction — and every day after she left would turn into quiet, gnawing torment.
Soyo would find herself calling often, sending careful, tentative messages day and night, all for the sake of drawing out a little more of that warmth.
Why was it like this? Nagasaki Soyo didn't know.
But whenever sorrow came, whenever sadness crept in, Chiose was the medicine that healed everything.
Every word Chiose spoke could set off an endless cascade of daydreams in Nagasaki Soyo — leading her into that fantastical country built entirely from imagination.
"Why isn't it the weekend yet... why isn't it the weekend yet."
Soyo lay in bed, her whole body curled deep under the covers, only her head poking out from beneath the sheets.
The curtains were drawn tight. Nothing lit her face but the pale glow of her phone.
She was already scheming in her head about which dishes she'd worked so hard to learn that she could show off to Chiose over the weekend. Someday in the future... Soyo wanted to make a pot of samgyetang for Chiose herself!
"Little Soyo!"
Before Chiose-mama could arrive, her actual mother, Miss Nagasaki, came home first.
Miss Nagasaki flung the door open, waving something in her hand — though in the dim light Soyo couldn't make out what it was.
"Mama, you're home."
"Ahaha hahaha! I am! My darling daughter, look what I've brought!"
"What is it?"
Soyo sat up, but Miss Nagasaki was faster — she had already swept her into a hug.
Her voice was full of joy and pride, like a child showing off their grades to their mother.
Though Miss Nagasaki was, in fact, the mother.
"It's your acceptance letter from Tsuki no Mori! Mama's taken care of everything!"
Soyo blinked. For a moment, her mind went completely blank.
"Eh?"
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