The dining table was filled with the scent of sizzling bulgogi, the rich, fermented aroma of doenjang-jjigae bubbling in a clay pot, the golden sheen of rolled omelettes neatly sliced into spirals, and a stack of kimchi jeon still steaming. A faint hiss echoed from the kitchen as Joon-ho moved back and forth with smooth, practiced rhythm, plating each dish with a calm precision. Harin hovered beside him, passing napkins, placing bowls, and tossing in playful remarks every now and then as she garnished the food with chopped scallions and sesame seeds.
Coach Min leaned back on the couch with a curious expression, watching the way they worked together. When the final dish was placed before her, she raised a brow and crossed her arms. "Not bad," she said, nodding with approval. "You cook like someone's husband already."
"Occupational hazard," Joon-ho replied with a faint smile. "Cooking calms me. Almost like therapy."
