The couple in their thirties left. They put the money inside a blue plastic basket. They put the money in there before the owner said to put it there. It seemed that there were a few unwritten rules in this small pojang-macha. It was something cozy and not uncomfortable. It was one of those ‘oh, there’s something like that’ elements that people could smile at.

Maru downed his udon and gave back the bowl. Can I have another bowl? - The owner said yes before putting some broth and noodles in the bowl. The quantity didn’t decrease from before. In fact, Maru felt like there was more. There was a lot of topping as well. Although it was only some fish cakes, the amount provoked Maru’s gratitude in his heart.

The owner told the students eating outside to come in, but the two students refused, saying that they liked eating standing up better. It seemed that right below the street light, where the light from the pojang-macha could barely reach, was their secret hideout of sorts. Maru could hear the conversation the two had through the opening of the plastic curtain. They were talking about how it was the summer holidays and yet they had to go to school or something, about teachers, and about cram schools.

“Thanks for the food.”

The two salarymen in their forties paid before leaving. They each had a bottle of soju, some soondae,...