#afritada

cast| won nari (oc) wc|  cw| original characters synopsis| nari's LOOOORRRREEEE!!!! credits| @koririmao / @duckreiii on  W  app ib| idk i was bored

~~

nari took a swig of soju, the liquor burning its way down his throat like a vice tightening around his lungs. he was on the floor, his back pressed against the door, knees drawn close to his chest.  

the apartment was suffocatingly quiet. a silence so thick it clung to the air, making it harder to breathe. days like these had a way of creeping up on him—when the weight of the world felt unbearable, and his thoughts unraveled into another breakdown.  

his fingers trembled as he unfolded the crumpled photograph in his hand. the faces in the picture were blurred with age, their features distorted, but his father's smile remained unmistakable.  

that same gentle smile of a man who wouldn’t hurt a fly even if it landed in his soup. a man who once laughed while cooking, never raising his voice—never raising a hand. and yet, that kind man had been shackled to a woman who was a master of venomous words and cruel indifference.  

maybe the divorce had been a blessing. maybe her moving to the states had been the best thing that could’ve happened. at least then, his father no longer had to endure her constant bullshit.  

well. almost.  

the vibration of his phone against the wooden floor jolted him from his thoughts. he frowned, glancing at the caller id. his stomach twisted, dread curling around his ribs.  

rolling his eyes, he forced himself to answer.  

"mom?"  

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?! I’VE BEEN CALLING YOU FOR TWO HOURS! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU, YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT?!"  

her voice ripped through the speaker like glass shattering against concrete, sharp enough to make him wince.  

nari swallowed back the exhaustion threatening to seep into his tone. another fight—right after he had just finished grieving their fractured excuse of a family. he didn’t have the energy for this.  

"i-i was… studying" he lied, his voice hoarse.  

"you better be!" she snapped. "i’m not sending money—WHICH, MIGHT I REMIND YOU, IS NOT EVEN FROM YOUR DAMN FATHER—just for you to waste it in korea!"  

as if what she sent even covered a fraction of what he needed.  

medical school was bleeding him dry. tuition alone was backbreaking, not to mention the cost of textbooks, lab materials, rent, utilities, food. being 27 and struggling to stay afloat in mokpo—one of the economically challenged cities in south korea—felt like drowning with no shore in sight.  

his grip tightened around his phone, nails digging into his palm. "if you’re done nagging, can you just hang up? i have things to do."  

"oh? you’re talking back to me now?" she spat, voice dripping with condescension. "fine. i’ll hang up. but let me tell you something, you little bitch—no matter what you do, no matter how much you twist and turn the damn earth—YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MY DAUGHTER. won nari, you—"  

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!"  

his voice tore from his throat like a wound ripped open.  

the room trembled with silence. his own breath came in uneven gasps, the burn of alcohol now nothing compared to the fire clawing at his chest. his fingers dug into his scalp as he fought to steady himself, but the words still rang in his ears.  

'always my daughter'

no matter how far he ran, no matter how much he tried to sever the strings tying him to the past—his mother would never let him exist as an independent individual.

silence.

then, the sharp click of the call ending. a long, drawn-out beep filled the empty space in the room.

with a curse, nari hurled the phone across the room. it crashed against the wall, the screen shattering into jagged cracks, but he barely spared it a glance. his frustration burned too hot. 

he grabbed the soju bottle, tipping back the last bitter drop before launching it after the phone. it smashed against the floor, shards scattering like the pieces of his life he couldn't glue back together.

if only there was a way out. a way to take the money and start fresh.

sure, he could lie—say he was using it for med school while really spending it on something else. 

but then what? how would he cover rent with his greedy landlord breathing down his neck? 

what about groceries, the bare minimum to keep himself afloat? 

the electricity bill? the water?

the essentials that his mother, in all her so-called generosity, never considered when she threw money at him like it could buy his obedience?

and then there was the nanny.

not the warm, doting kind who baked cookies or picked up after him. no, this one was a spy—his mother’s eyes and ears, planted right next door like a parasite. a woman paid to watch his every move, to report back with every misstep, every deviation from the future his mother had carved out for him.

bribing her? sure. it had crossed his mind more than once. but where the hell would he get the money for that? from the allowance his mother gave him? the same money he needed to survive? the irony of it all made him laugh bitterly.

and even if he wanted to earn his own, no hospital or clinic would take him. his grades were trash, a stain on his record, and no one cared that he was actually good at practical work. they wanted numbers, proof on paper—not someone who could actually handle real, human bodies with precision and skill.

bottom of the class meant bottom of the barrel.

nari leaned back, rubbing his temples, breathing through the simmering rage that sat heavy in his chest.

he needed a plan. fast.

~~~~

as nari sat on the bench by the train station, he pulled out a cigarette and flicked his lighter. the flame danced for a second before settling into a steady glow. 

it was only 10:15 PM, yet the usual flood of workers and students had vanished, leaving the platform eerily deserted. he exhaled a slow stream of smoke, shrugging off the uneasy quiet. 

being alone wasn’t new to him. hell, he preferred it that way. 

until now.

a man in a suit, crisp and unbothered by the late hour, took a seat across from him, resting a hefty briefcase on his lap. nari barely spared him a glance, but something about the stranger’s presence made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. he kept his eyes forward, pretending not to notice.

then, in his peripheral vision—eye contact.

great. just great. if i didn’t look so fucking feminine, maybe creeps like him wouldn’t pull stunts like this.

“excuse me, ma’am, but would you like to play a game?” the man’s voice was smooth, almost rehearsed. with a flick of his wrist, two ddakji squares appeared between his fingers—one red, one blue.

nari’s eye twitched. “first of all,” he growled, “it’s sir. get it right.”

the man only smiled. amused.

“and next—what the actual fuck? a grown-ass man in a business suit playing ddakji at 10:00 PM in mokpo’s TRAIN STATION? you lost a bet or something?” his voice dripped with sarcasm, but something about the stranger’s unbothered demeanor set off alarm bells in his head.

the man chuckled, clearly unfazed. “won nari. a child of a broken family. father vanished, mother remarried in the states, started fresh. she sends you money, but let’s be real—it's barely enough to scrape by. certainly not enough to fund the tuition for her dream of you becoming a doctor, is it?”

nari’s stomach dropped.

how the fuck does he know that?

he kept his expression neutral, but his grip on the cigarette tightened. the man continued, flipping one of the ddakji tiles between his fingers.

“it’s people like you, nari, that i offer help to.” he tilted his head slightly, studying him. “independent, resourceful, far more capable than your grades would suggest. you’re skilled—maybe even more than some professionals. yet you’re shackled by someone else’s expectations.” his voice was casual, like they were discussing the weather.

the briefcase snapped open, revealing stacks of crisp 50,000-won bills. the sight of that much money all at once sent a rush of heat through nari’s chest.

the man smirked, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“every time you win, you get fifty thousand won. but every time i win, you owe me fifty thousand.” he extended his hand. “deal?” nari scoffed, rolling his eyes. “hey, genius stalker, if you know so much about me, you’d know I don’t have fifty-fucking-thousand won.”

the man’s smirk didn’t falter. “alright then. how about this—you get fifty thousand every time you win, but every time i win, i get to slap you.” nari looked up sharply, studying his expression. he didn’t seem violent. the guy was all slick smiles and smooth talk, nothing that screamed dangerous.

a few slaps? he could take that. and with that much cash on the line? easy choice— or so he thought.

the next thing nari knew, he had missed the last train of the night, his cheek burning red from repeated smacks. his fingers trembled slightly as he counted his winnings—three hundred thousand won.

the man in the suit bowed slightly, tucking away the remaining ddakji pieces. “i’m impressed, nari. you’ve got skill. do you think you could handle other traditional korean games?”

he reached into his pocket and handed over a business card. nari barely glanced at it before scoffing. “what kind of shitty business card only has a number and some—” his voice trailed off as he took a proper look.

a circle. a triangle. a square.

he frowned, glancing up—only to find the man gone.

vanished.

a chill ran down his spine.

what in the goddamn fuck just happened?

~~~

nari’s pov

as i flipped through the keys on my key ring, searching for the one that unlocked my apartment door, the faint sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway behind me. i glanced up to see the nanny approaching, a large pot cradled in her arms.

"ay, hijo, you’re finally home." her voice was warm, familiar. "i made my special afritada—hope you’re hungry. if you want me to heat it up first, just let me know, okay?" she handed me the pot with a gentle smile.

i couldn't bring myself to hate this old lady. not when she was just another one of my mother’s victims. based on her kind demeanor, there was no way she willingly took on the role of a personal watchdog for a 27-year-old korean boy. she was just doing what she was told.

i forced a small smile and twisted the key into the lock, pushing the door open with a soft creak. as I took the pot from her, i muttered, "se-lah-mutt puh" my sorry excuse for tagalog pronunciation making her chuckle.

"it’s ‘salamat po,’ hijo" she corrected with a laugh. "but you’re welcome. if you need anything, just knock on my door, ha?"

my face warmed with embarrassment. i nodded. "of course. thanks again."

stepping inside, i nudged the door shut behind me and carried the pot to the kitchen, setting it down on the counter.

i sat at the table, spooning steaming afritada onto my plate, pairing it with the cold, soggy microwave rice i had leftover from earlier. my eyes drifted to the small, plain business card in my hand.

was this really the answer to my financial struggles?

it sounded ridiculous—playing children's games for money. but if i played enough, i could finally escape this crummy apartment. hell, I could move out of the city. maybe even the country.

but not before taking care of the nanny next door. she’d looked after me when no one else did, and she deserved better than being my mother’s eyes and ears. if i earned enough, maybe i could convince her to stop listening to my mother’s orders for good.

i sighed, setting down my spoon.

yeah. a few more slaps wouldn’t kill me.

reaching for my phone, i hesitated for only a second before dialing the number on the card. the line rang. 

once. twice. a third time. 

just as doubt started creeping in, there was a click.

a voice—muffled, almost robotic—spoke on the other end.

"hello. do you wish to participate in the games?"

i swallowed hard, clearing my throat. "y-yeah. i do."

"to verify your participation, please state your name and age."

odd way to verify someone, but whatever.

"won nari. twenty-seven."

a brief pause. then, the voice responded.

"very well. we will send you the location of where to wait. please look forward to the games we have prepared. good evening."

click.

the line went dead.

i stared at my phone, my heartbeat steady but heavy in my chest.

well. no turning back now.

~~~

as nari sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the address now glowing on his phone screen, an unsettling feeling crawled up his spine.

déjà vu.

he frowned. 

had he seen this location before? maybe in passing? or was it a dream?

the nagging sensation gripped him as he glanced around his dimly lit apartment. the afritada pot still sat on the stove, steam faintly curling from its surface. his untouched glass of water reflected the flickering fluorescent light overhead. 

it was all so... familiar. too familiar.

he tapped his fingers against his knee, trying to shake the unease, but the memory—if it even was a memory—was slippery. he could almost picture himself standing at that very location, feeling the cold air press against his skin, hearing the distant hum of a train, sensing the weight of anticipation thick in his chest.

was it possible he had already played these games before?

his heart picked up speed at the thought. no, that didn’t make sense. if he had, wouldn’t he remember? 

wouldn’t there be some trace of it in his life? 

a scar, a missing day, a debt paid off?

still, something felt off.

with a deep breath, he tapped the address into his map app, watching the route unfold. the location wasn’t too far—a warehouse near the docks. 

secluded. isolated. the perfect place for something secretive.

his fingers hovered over the screen. he should hesitate. he should think about this more. but instead, he grabbed his coat, stuffed his phone into his pocket, and reached for the door handle.

but before he could open the door, his eyes flickered to the nunchucks resting on the counter—disguised as a delicate purple kanzashi adorned with lily designs. a gift from his mother. perhaps the only good thing he had ever received from her.

without a second thought, he reached for it, running his fingers over the smooth surface before securing it in his hair like any ordinary kanzashi. a hidden weapon, concealed in plain sight.

as he stepped into the hallway, he caught sight of the nanny’s door just as it clicked shut. 

had she been watching him?

another chill ran through him, but he shook it off. It didn’t matter. Not now.

déjà vu or not, he was going.

and whatever awaited him there—he had a feeling it had been waiting for him, too.

~~~

"thanks again, sir."  

nari stepped out of the taxi, waiting for it to drive off before heading deeper into the night. he walked cautiously, glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was following him. after what felt like an eternity, he finally arrived at the warehouse.  

great. so... uh… what now?  

was he supposed to just stand here? because this definitely wasn’t where that salesman had come from. that guy had been decked out in a crisp suit, carrying an expensive-looking briefcase stacked with cash. there was no way he worked in a rundown place like this.  

lost in thought, nari almost didn’t notice the black van pulling up in front of him. he figured it was just some random driver, maybe someone stopping to ask if he was lost.  

but when the window rolled down, it revealed a masked man—a featureless circle stamped onto his face, clad in a pink jumpsuit.  

the van door slid open. the man inside nodded toward nari, a silent invitation.  

his gut twisted. everything about this screamed suspicious. but then again… it wasn’t like he had a choice anymore.

no turning back now.  

taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.  

the moment he did, the door slammed shut behind him. he glanced around the dimly lit interior, his stomach tightening.  

are these people asleep? or… unconscious? 

a sinking feeling crept up his spine. wait. no. this was a terrible idea.

before he could react, a hissing sound filled the van. thin, colorless fumes seeped from the air vents.  

oh, great. this is how i die, huh? kidnapped and sold for my organs?not exactly the kind of story that would land me in the history books. maybe a headline on the news, if i'm lucky.  

his thoughts spiraled as his vision blurred. his limbs grew heavy.  

the last thing he saw was darkness.  

then—nothing.

Chicken Afritada

Choice of meat, cooked with carrots, potatoes, red and green bell peppers, and stewed in tomato sauce. Afritada is a traditional Filipino meal. It is a typical Filipino dinner that is typically served with white rice. Seafood can also be cooked with it.

“Food is for eating, and good food is to be enjoyed... I think food is, actually, very beautiful in itself.” -- Delia Smith

So what is the difference between Kaldereta, Afritada, Mechado, and Menudo? First, what is usually the same?

4 basic ingredients connect the four stews: tomatoes and/or tomato sauce, potatoes, carrots, and bell peppers. Though potatoes and tomato sauce are the most common denominators.

Also, the four dishes have Spanish colonial influence, from the names, ingredients, to the methods of cooking. Mechado has roots in the “mecha” or “wick” of fat used to make tough beef succulent, though the method is used less and less nowadays. Menudo might be from the Spanish word for tiny, but the dish brought over due to colonization might have been a Mexican Menudo.

There are also many other tomato-based dishes such as Pochero, Escabeche, and even Filipino Spaghetti. These stews are so rich in flavor, even vegetable or vegan recipes abound.

And though the debates continue, it means that cooks and chefs are making their own renditions. Together we make these uniquely Filipino stews better and better… and always best for the times, for friends, family, and festivity.