Urip slowly stirred the ginseng chicken soup in front of him. The steam rose gently, brushing against his face. The taste... was strange. It wasn't like regular boiled village chicken soup. Not like the Chinese food he used to buy at the Trisakti campus canteen, and definitely not Japanese. Yet somehow, his tongue liked the flavor. As if there was a memory in the taste—one that didn't belong to him, but to this body.
"Eat, sweetheart. So you'll recover quickly," Siska said softly as she placed a slice of Korean pear onto his plate.
Urip nodded and took a slow sip.
Lim Woo observed his still-pale son, then turned to Siska. "How about we postpone the trip to Jakarta?"
Siska looked hesitant. "But it doesn't feel right, Oppa. I owe them a lot…"
Urip looked up, his brow furrowed.
"We can send the money first, and visit later. Once Gaby's fully recovered. I can't bear to leave him in this condition," Lim Woo continued, firm but loving.
Siska sighed and looked at her son gently.
"No matter what, I owe them my life, Gaby…"
Urip took another spoonful of the broth. The flavor grew deeper, stranger—and yet more familiar. His tongue seemed to understand something that his brain hadn't caught up with.
He gathered his courage, and spoke in Korean—words that somehow slipped from his lips effortlessly. The sentence was smooth, reflexive. Even the intonation was nearly perfect. "What kind of debt, Ma?"
Siska and Lim Woo turned toward him, slightly surprised. Gabriel usually never asked about the past.
Lim Woo answered calmly. "You remember I once told you, back then your Mama was in trouble… and she was helped by the Bodhi Dharma Temple in Sunter?"
Urip stayed silent. "But… Mama's Catholic, right?" he asked quietly.
Siska gave a faint smile, her expression tinged with sadness. "Yes. But back then… the first people who helped me weren't from the Church. It was them."
Her gaze drifted far away, but she said no more.
Lim Woo gently touched his wife's hand. "We'll still go. Just not now. Our son comes first."
Siska nodded slowly, then turned to Urip again. "What matters is that you get well. That's enough for me."
Urip lowered his gaze. The soup had grown cold, but he kept spooning and eating it. He looked at Siska more intently. His voice was quiet, but filled with curiosity. "What kind of trouble, Ma? Please tell me…"
Siska's expression suddenly shifted. Her eyes welled up, her lips trembled slightly. She looked down, as if holding something back.
"When your grandfather started getting sick… That's enough, don't talk about it. Your Mama might get upset," Lim Woo interjected.
Grandfather? Urip was startled. That must be Gabriel Sulaiman Lim, his grandfather. But hadn't he always been healthy?
He glanced at Lim Woo, who sat calmly at the table, yet his gaze was full of love and concern toward Siska. The man's gestures were warm and sincere.
Deep inside, Urip felt something strange—but peaceful. "I'm happy to see you happy… even if it's not with me."
Siska wiped away a quiet tear, then gave Urip a weak smile as she carried the dirty dishes to the kitchen. The sound of water and clinking plates echoed softly.
Urip turned to Lim Woo, who was still sipping warm tea. He watched the middle-aged man for a few seconds, then gathered his courage to sit beside him. "Papa…" he said quietly.
Lim Woo turned. "Hm?"
"You really love Mama, don't you?"
Lim Woo raised an eyebrow, his gaze curious. Then he squinted, as if holding back laughter. "How do you think you were born if I didn't love your Mama?!"
Urip was silent, stunned, then unintentionally chuckled. Lim Woo laughed softly along with him.
"But it's not just that. I fell in love with your Mama the first time I saw her. Even though, back then, she wouldn't even look at me. She was still traumatized."
"Traumatized?"
Lim Woo nodded. "She once told me she deeply trusted someone… but that person didn't show up when she needed them the most."
Urip swallowed hard. His heart beat a little faster. "Who?" he asked softly.
Lim Woo shook his head. "I doesn't know. She never said who it was. But ever since then, she closed herself off from anyone who wasn't family or someone she deeply trusted."
Urip looked toward the kitchen. Siska's figure stood with her back to him, washing dishes slowly. There was a sadness on her shoulders that never left.
Lim Woo patted his shoulder. "But I iam grateful she eventually opened up. She's an incredible woman. And you… you're our greatest blessing."
Urip bowed his head. Inside Lim Gabriel's chest, the heart of Stefanus Urip Mulio was misting over. Deep down, he whispered, "I'm sorry, Siska. I came… twenty-six years too late."
Lim Woo looked at Urip seriously, his voice calm but firm. "Remember, don't ask your Mama about her past again, okay? It'll only make her sad, like earlier."
Urip nodded slowly. "Yes, Pa…"
But his mind couldn't stop replaying everything he'd just heard. "The person who didn't show up when she needed them… That was me, wasn't it, Sis?"
Urip stood and returned to his room. He sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze vacant, his body heavy with truths slowly revealing themselves. And between the calming heartbeats, the memory suddenly came.
Jakarta, 1996.
A humid Sunday morning. He jogged across Juanda Street, heading toward the Cathedral. Sweat soaked the back of his shirt. His shoes splashed through puddles, but he kept running. He was late.
Inside the church, mass had already begun. He bowed respectfully, then quietly slipped down the aisle. His eyes scanned left and right, looking for an empty seat.
In the middle rows, there was just one open spot. He moved quickly toward it, and—
"Hey, I got here first!" a girl's voice startled him.
Urip froze. In front of him stood a long-haired girl with her hair tied back, wearing a white blouse and dark gray skirt. Her face was delicate, but her eyes stubborn. Urip responded quickly, "I was eyeing that seat the whole time."
"Just eyeing it doesn't mean it's yours!" the girl whispered with a pout, still mindful not to disturb the mass.
"Let's just sit together," Urip suggested, scooting slightly.
The girl gave him a wary look, then agreed. "But don't sit too close."
Urip smiled faintly. "Relax. I'm a good guy."
After sitting down, they didn't speak again. But at the end of the mass, as people began to leave, the girl turned to him again.
"My name's Siska. Theology student, Santaverra Catholic University."
Urip smiled. "Stefanus Urip Mulio. Medicine, Trisakti."
Siska gave a small nod, then walked away.
From that day on, every Sunday morning, that seat was never empty again.