Like a prey waiting with a trap, I missed my predator.
I missed her touch in the places I've never been touched.
I wanted to hear her sing the songs that I've never heard.
I longed, longed, longed through the long days I
Spent in the office.
A few weeks had passed uneventfully. I was back to square one where I started but with a heart that had a hole that won't fill. I wasn't like this before. The blood drained out of my heart every day now. Before all this started I felt more trapped, unable to get out. But now I couldn't stop letting myself escape through my punctured heart.
"Ms. Han, we are going to have a company dinner tonight."
Mr. Kim, the HR manager, came to notify me around 4:00 PM.
We haven't had the obligatory welcome dinner yet, so I kinda saw it coming.
"Sure."
"Try to wrap up your work by five. We have a reservation at a sashimi restaurant at 5:30."
"Understood, Mr. Kim."
There was only one hour left and I didn't have much to wrap up.
So I started reading baseball news, a sports that I never watch on TV, let alone go to a stadium for.
I've never been to a sports match, have I?
Supposedly I went to a football match during the 2002 Korea-Japan World Cup, but I was a baby back then so I had no memory of it. My Dad was a big fan and watched Premier League matches every week. He got so nervous and excited every game that my Mom was always worried that he'd have a heart attack. With the 9-hour time difference, the matches started anywhere from 9 PM to 5 AM, yet he watched his team play every time. Alarm clock operations when needed.
Despite her worries and constant nagging that he should get enough sleep instead of staying up watching what he loved, Mom always prepared snacks for him during half-time.
I never understood why she did that, but thinking about it now reminded me of late-night ramen I used to cook for
The one whose name I no longer wanted to speak - not even in my mind.
The work ended promptly and we walked to a sashimi restaurant nearby, apparently it was our regular spot for company dinners and everybody seemed to know the owner there who came out to greet us. He even noticed that I was new and gave me an extra welcome smile.
We got a private room where we sat on the floor, which I never liked. It gave me pins and needles if I sat for any longer than 20 minutes.
There were rounds of the Bomb Cocktail, mixture of soju and beer. The boss took it upon himself to mix the drinks for everyone, all 18 of us.
When all the glasses containing piss colored liquid were passed around, he raised the glass and we all followed.
"Let's all welcome Ms. Han for joining us. She has been of great help already."
Like I've ever really done anything here. But I suppose just sitting in the office like a reasonably pleasant-looking flower didn't do anyone harm. Maybe even good for morale for an office demographic dominated by men.
"To Ms. Han!"
Everyone cheered and I glanced around the table, bowing my head in appreciation.
As it was custom for such company gatherings, the boss started the chant.
"JJ Systems!"
"JJ Systems!", we all followed.
"We are!"
"We are!"
"The future!"
"The future!"
"Geonbae!!"
"Geonbae!!"
Then we all downed the glass. The ethanol taste of soju with the fizz of beer was a potent mix and I felt like it went straight to my head.
"Enjoy the meal!"
"Enjoy the meal!"
Then the opening proceedings stopped and we started eating after the boss took the first piece of assorted sashimi spread on top of shredded radish on a plate.
"This is great! Ms. Han, please try this piece."
The boss pointed at the most tasty looking tuna belly, something I should normally leave for the seniors but today was a treat for me, so I accepted the offer and took it in although fatty tuna was probably better to be eaten last, after flatfish in any case. It was a good tuna though that didn't feel frozen and it melted in my mouth.
Another round of bomb cocktails was mixed by masterful Dr. Kim and we all downed them again.
The evening was filled with friendly chats and laughter, multiple rounds of cheers, and a good vibe overall.
I knew I found the right place to work. My colleagues from the previous workplace were pretty decent too, but I realized just how much difference it made to have a boss who isn't toxic and everyone liked.
As time went by and I got more alcohol in my system, I started to become more talkative while becoming more and more withdrawn. It was almost as if I was a ventriloquist who made it look like a doll - my body - was talking. The only connection with the reality I felt was the rawness of sashimi each time I chewed it and tasted the life that was finely cut short.
I imagined my killer with a sashimi knife. Slicing through the fish meat with expertise, intense concentration in her eyes, smooth and swift movement of a knife, short-lived reflections of her chiseled face on the shiny blade.
She was a chef and a fisher.
She caught lives and served them chilled.
To customers' orders, professionally delivered.
My stomach turned after 6th glass of the Bomb Cocktail was downed, and I had a spoonful of food make the reverse course from my stomach and touch my throat.
I swallowed and pushed it back down, my eyes momentarily teary at the disgust.
This sashimi was good. People were nice. And life was good.
Why is my stomach rejecting it?
It was almost like I couldn't stomach all the goodness that life had to offer.
As the sashimi was all finished and spicy fish soup was served, the kind boss filled my bowl with the soup and gave me the fish head with it. A special treat. I politely asked him to have the fish head for himself but he insisted. Today was for me.
I appreciated the gesture and took the bowl with both hands, placing it in front of me.
I stared at the fish head with its eyes still in place. The lifeless eye stared back at me.
I missed Miho.