Chapter 99

"Uni?"

As he peered cautiously into the basket, the unfamiliar sound confirmed that it was indeed not chestnuts. A part of the ball was cut open, revealing a chunk of orange-colored, nut-sized object inside.

For some reason, despite never having seen this food before, Marco felt a sense of nostalgia deep within his heart.

"That is the cold sake from Rashomon."

"Rashomon's Reishu."

Like Triaezunama, it was a name he had never heard before. He poured the unknown sake into a small glass. With a pleasant clinking sound, the clear sake, like the clear water of a valley stream, filled the glass.

This was amazing. Marco had never seen such clear sake before. The transparent sake in a transparent glass was enough to pique his curiosity. All kinds of sake usually have some color. He had heard rumors that some fire sake was transparent, but Marco had never tasted it.

When he took a sip, he was surprised by the smooth texture. What kind of sake was this? It wasn't barley, nor was it fruit wine. During his travels, he had seen people brewing various things into sake, but he had never seen such clear sake. In terms of taste, it somewhat resembled the rice wine cultivated in the south, but that was supposed to be a cloudy, thick sake.

The slightly sweet, fruit-like sake was gone before he knew it.

It was delicious.

This sake was not just about appearance. It was a different kind of sake from ale or apple seeds. The alcohol content was strong, but he could drink it endlessly. This Rashomon could be a profitable business. Marco's instincts as a traveling merchant told him so.

The Systinmark Barony, where Marco was born, was one of the poorest among the three northern baronies. The long, narrow territory was sandwiched between steep mountains and a rough sea, and the people lived by fishing. The northern sea was rough, and the fishermen's lives were short. Marco had left his hometown because he disliked such a life. He had studied reading, writing, and arithmetic, putting a strain on his poor parents, and had become a traveling merchant through the connections of his relatives, building a modest fortune.

Just a little more. Just a little more.

If he could save a little more money, he could open a small shop somewhere in the empire. There were various things he wanted to sell, but sake would be a good choice. Fortunately, he had connections with the imperial capital's brewing officials, and if he could serve this Reishu at his shop, it would be a good business. He felt that he could finally become an ordinary person by doing so. Because he had left his hometown and his parents, he had to become more than ordinary. He had worked tirelessly until today with that thought. The success of today's business must be due to the gods watching over his efforts.

While savoring the aftertaste of the Reishu, Marco looked at the Uni. It still felt like he had seen it somewhere before. As he searched his hazy memory, someone spoke to him from the side.

"Oh, ordering Uni, you must be quite the connoisseur."

Looking over, he saw an old monk drinking alone. His side dish seemed to be fried snowbuds.

The snowbuds, about the size of dice, were a precious spring delicacy in the north, and Marco also loved them.

"I asked for something unusual."

"I see, that's a good way to order. You seem to be a seasoned traveler."

"Yes, as a traveling merchant, travel is like my home."

"A life of travel, huh. What about your hometown?"

"No, not really."

He started to say that he had no good memories but stopped himself. There was no need to say that much. The old man, who seemed kind, had a mysterious power in his eyes. Marco felt as if he was being seen through and took another sip of Rashomon.

He asked the old monk, who introduced himself as Etovin, and the bartender of this place, Nobu, about the menu. The more he learned, the more interesting the place became. Perhaps this was fate. Opening a shop in the ancient capital might be a good idea. He was sure it would be a profitable business. Marco thanked the gods in his heart. Today was indeed a lucky day.

"Uni is a matter of personal taste, but I think it will suit you."

With that, the old monk smiled and returned to his own world. Marco turned back to the Uni, which he had almost forgotten. Where had he seen it before?

When he took a bite, a rich aroma spread in his mouth.

The sea.

In the next moment, his memories of his hometown were suddenly awakened. The strong, almost overpowering scent of the sea stirred his heart. It was more nostalgic than delicious. Marco had eaten Uni before.

What came to mind was a rough straw bed and the feel of his mother's hands. When Marco was bedridden with a cold, his mother, with her rough hands from fishing, had caressed his forehead and cheeks. It was then that he had eaten Uni, not as a meal but as medicine. His mother, speaking few words, had told him that his father had brought it from a dangerous rock where children were not allowed to go. He didn't think it was called Uni at the time, but the ball he had seen in his sickbed was undoubtedly Uni.

That taste. But something was missing.

"Excuse me, do you still have snowbuds?"

He asked the black-haired cook behind the counter.

"Harumachime... oh, those look like fuki no to. Yes, we still have them. A customer picked them this morning from a nearby forest."

"Ah, could I ask for a favor?"

He asked for the snowbuds to be blanched and thinly sliced, then mixed with the Uni. In his hometown village, this spring mountain vegetable was also used as a medicinal herb.

"Hmm, so there's a way to eat it like this."

Etovin, the old man, peered into the small dish with interest. He took a bite and nodded. This was the taste.

The wild, bitter flavor of the snowbuds added to the taste of the Uni, recreating the flavor he had eaten back then.

He held back the tears that threatened to fall from the nostalgia and took a sip of Rashomon.

It was incredibly delicious.

He wasn't sure if the Uni and snowbuds had cured his cold, but as a side dish for sake, it was a rare delicacy. The taste that he had only found bitter as a child was now so dear to him.

Hometown.

Until now, when he thought of his hometown during his travels, he only remembered the dull, gray scenes of white waves crashing against rocks and barren farmland. But now, it was different.

He remembered the mountain vegetables he had picked in the spring, the friends he had studied with, the rare calm of the sea, and the sounds of birds.

Now, everything was nostalgic.

He ordered another Rashomon and sipped it slowly this time.

How were his father and mother doing? When he first became a traveling merchant, he had written letters to his illiterate parents, but he had stopped doing so a while ago.

Memories surfaced one after another from the depths of his mind, like pulling a rope.

"...I want to go back."

After swallowing the last bite of Uni, the words slipped out naturally.

Do I really want to go back? It was his abandoned hometown. Marco was surprised that the words "I want to go back" had come out.

If he saved a little more money, he could open a shop. He had decided that he wouldn't return no matter what until then.

Then Marco suddenly realized something.

No matter what, not returning. Could it be that from the beginning, he had intended to return to his hometown?

The absurdity of the realization made Marco chuckle.

Good. He hadn't hated his hometown. He had only been deceiving himself to suppress the desire to return.

Etovin and Shinobu seemed surprised by Marco's changing expressions. It was understandable. Anyone would be surprised if someone started crying and laughing after eating Uni.

"Taisho, this is a great place."

Taisho, who was filleting a fish, smiled bashfully.

"Thank you. That's encouraging."

The idea of exploring the shop's distribution channels and selling sake had completely vanished. It felt as if he had been bewitched. Or perhaps he was being bewitched now.

The shrine in the foreign-style shop housed a deity from a distant land. Still, Marco felt like thanking this god.

Meeting this shop had given him a new goal in life.

He would return to his hometown and start a small trading company. He would gather the barony's products and sell them in the city. With the profits, he would buy a sturdy ship and gradually make his hometown prosperous.

It was a much bigger dream than opening a small shop in the city. But Marco was confident he could achieve it. He had left his beloved hometown and worked hard to get where he was. There was no reason he couldn't do it again.

"Thank you, Shinobu. It was delicious."

Shinobu smiled warmly in response.

"Did you like the uni?"

"Yes, it was very delicious. I'm really glad I came to this shop."

It might have sounded like flattery. A traveling merchant had to be good with words, but the downside was that the true meaning didn't always get across.

"Thank you. Please come again."

He would be busy from now on. It might be difficult to come back. But the words that came out of his mouth were the opposite.

"I will come back. No, I will definitely come back."

He stepped out of the sliding door and looked back once more.

He had firmly etched the name of the shop in his heart.