The morning sun was barely creeping over the horizon when Jiyeon and Yura made their way downstairs. Jiyeon was already listing tasks under her breath, one hand balancing a coffee cup and the other holding a stack of notes about the new fall menu. Yura, trailing behind her, looked significantly less awake, her hair still slightly mussed and her expression showing less enthusiasm about the early start.
"Let's get one thing straight," Yura muttered, running a hand through her hair, "if I'm involved in your 'brilliant fall menu,' I need at least two hours of coffee and no ridiculous tasks that start with 'just a quick chop.' I know your idea of 'quick,' and it's terrifying."
Jiyeon rolled her eyes, a mischievous smirk curling on her lips. "Oh, don't be so dramatic. It's barely morning, and you're already whining."
Yura shot her a halfhearted glare. "I reserve the right to whine until at least ten. And let's not forget the last time you said something would be 'quick'—I was peeling garlic for an hour."
"Your hands smelled fantastic, though," Jiyeon retorted. "Garlic is practically perfume."
Yura wrinkled her nose in mock disgust. "Ah, yes. Garlic—the scent of romance."
They made their way to the kitchen, where Kang was already there, apron on, clutching a cup of coffee as if it were his last lifeline. He glanced up, looking between the two of them with an expression caught somewhere between curiosity and dread.
"Good morning, power couple," Kang said, deadpan, taking a sip. "Here to test my patience or ruin my morning?"
Jiyeon ignored him, dropping her stack of notes onto the counter with a thud. "We're developing the new menu, and I need two extra pairs of hands. Unfortunately, you two are the only volunteers."
Yura raised a hand, looking ready to exit the scene. "I didn't volunteer for anything. I was dragged here against my will."
Kang shot her a sympathetic look. "Join the club. Jiyeon never 'asks'—she 'summons.'"
"Alright, enough," Jiyeon said, her tone exasperated. "We're testing out a new idea—autumn flavors with a twist. Think warm spices, but with unexpected elements. Cinnamon-laced foie gras, kimchi pumpkin soup…"
Yura's eyebrows shot up. "Kimchi pumpkin soup? Have you lost it?"
Jiyeon crossed her arms defiantly. "I'm telling you, it's going to be amazing. A perfect blend of spice and warmth."
Kang chuckled. "I'll believe it when I taste it. Until then, I reserve judgment."
Yura folded her arms, leaning against the counter. "So, what's my part in this chaotic menu experiment?"
Jiyeon didn't miss a beat. "You, my dear wife, are on chopping duty. And no whining. I want those onions diced finely—not that lazy chopping you call 'rustic.'"
"Oh, I see how it is. Slave labor in the name of 'culinary art.'" Yura grabbed a knife, narrowing her eyes at Jiyeon. "You're lucky I love you."
Jiyeon smirked. "A little labor builds character."
Kang looked at them, amused. "If this menu doesn't work out, at least you two have got the sitcom routine nailed."
The morning quickly turned into a series of sarcastic exchanges, eye-rolls, and the occasional argument over the "correct" way to season a dish. Yura, who'd been cutting vegetables with the enthusiasm of a sloth, suddenly stopped, holding up a particularly large potato.
"Explain to me, Chef," she said, waving the potato in Jiyeon's direction, "how this is supposed to fit into the 'fine dining' experience? Are we opening a farm-to-table restaurant or what?"
Jiyeon sighed dramatically. "It's a base for the mushroom foam garnish, which will sit atop the garlic-pumpkin emulsion."
Kang snorted. "We're definitely serving at least three pretentious food critics tonight."
"Pretentious?" Jiyeon turned to Kang, pretending to look shocked. "It's called artistry."
"Artistry, right," Kang said with a smirk, pulling a baking sheet from the oven. "Does this 'artistry' include turning you into a tyrant chef?"
Jiyeon just smiled sweetly. "Only if you push my buttons."
Yura groaned, holding up her knife. "And I thought I'd escaped the tyranny of work meetings. Turns out, I married into a dictatorship."
Jiyeon leaned over, planting a kiss on Yura's cheek despite her sarcastic glare. "Consider it an occupational hazard."
As the morning passed, the kitchen filled with the rich smells of simmering spices and roasted vegetables. Jiyeon's fervor grew as each dish took form, tasting and adjusting with an eye for perfection, while Yura and Kang continued their roles as "culinary laborers" with various levels of sass.
"Alright," Jiyeon announced finally, eyeing a beautifully plated test dish of cinnamon foie gras and pumpkin puree. "Moment of truth."
Kang raised an eyebrow, grabbing a fork. "If this tastes as bizarre as it sounds, I'm demanding an apology."
Yura took her fork cautiously. "Or at least hazard pay."
They both took a bite, and silence fell over the kitchen. Jiyeon watched their faces expectantly, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. After a moment, Yura's eyes lit up with a look of genuine surprise.
"Damn," Yura murmured, taking another bite. "That… actually works."
Kang nodded, looking equally stunned. "I hate to admit it, but you may have actually created something genius here, Chef."
Jiyeon's face broke into a triumphant grin. "See? Artistry."
Yura shook her head, laughing. "Alright, fine. You win this round. But don't think this is over. I'm coming back for a rematch—preferably involving a menu that doesn't start with pumpkin-kimchi soup."
Jiyeon's grin only widened as she turned to Yura, who was begrudgingly taking another forkful of the pumpkin-kimchi soup.
"Admit it, love," Jiyeon teased, hands on her hips, "I've got you hooked. You just can't handle the fact that it's actually delicious."
Yura rolled her eyes, yet there was a playful glint in them as she leaned back against the counter. "I'm hooked? Don't get too cocky, chef. Just because this bizarre combo worked doesn't mean I'm sold on all your… avant-garde ideas."
Kang, taking a final bite of his plate, chuckled. "Better get used to it, Yura. You're married to a mad culinary scientist. Today it's kimchi pumpkin soup; tomorrow, who knows? Squid ink and chocolate?"
Jiyeon gasped, feigning offense. "How dare you doubt my genius! You know you'd miss my cooking experiments if I ever stopped."
"Oh, no question there," Kang retorted, smirking. "You'd be taking the joy out of my mornings. Besides, I'll admit this one was pretty mind-blowing."
Yura smirked, but Jiyeon caught her gaze softening. "Alright, Chef Jiyeon, we'll let you have your victory moment," Yura relented. "But now, you're on cleanup duty. Fair is fair, right?"
Jiyeon's triumphant expression deflated. "Cleanup? That's not how this works! I'm the mastermind; masterminds don't clean!"
"Oh, but masterminds do get covered in pumpkin puree," Yura said, her face breaking into a devilish grin as she reached for a spoon and scooped up a dollop of puree. Before Jiyeon could dodge, Yura flicked the spoon, sending a blob of orange straight onto Jiyeon's apron.
"Oh, it's war now!" Jiyeon laughed, grabbing a spoon of her own. In seconds, the kitchen erupted into a chaotic mess of flying bits of puree, chopped herbs, and an attempted handful of flour from Kang that mostly ended up on himself. Laughter echoed through the kitchen, as the three of them turned the already messy counters into a full-blown battlefield.
After several minutes of "culinary warfare," they finally called a truce, panting with laughter. Jiyeon wiped a smear of flour from her cheek, smiling as she looked at Yura and Kang, who were both still catching their breath.
"Alright, alright," Jiyeon said, grinning, "maybe cleanup isn't so bad if I get to watch you two suffer with me."
Yura leaned in, her voice low but teasing. "You're lucky we love you enough to tolerate your culinary madness."
Jiyeon's heart warmed at the words, and she softened, reaching out to take Yura's flour-dusted hand. "And you're lucky I have you to keep me sane through it all."
Kang groaned dramatically, making a show of covering his eyes. "Alright, lovebirds, save the romantic moments for somewhere that's not covered in pumpkin and flour, please."
Jiyeon smirked, shooting a wicked glance at Yura before grabbing a towel and starting to wipe down the nearest counter, though with as little effort as possible. "Oh, come on, Kang," she drawled. "Just admit it—you'd miss our so-called 'romantic moments' if we stopped."
"Miss it? More like celebrate the end of your mushy nonsense," Kang fired back, dramatically scrubbing at a particularly stubborn flour smear on his sleeve. "I came here to help out with a pop-up, not a rerun of 'Romeo and Juliet'—though I guess you two bring in more insults."
Yura raised a brow, glancing between Jiyeon and Kang. "Jealous, are we?" she quipped with a smirk. "Not our fault you haven't managed to charm anyone yet."
"Oh please, I could charm anyone in this room if I wanted," Kang replied, puffing out his chest with mock dignity. "It's a choice, alright?"
Jiyeon burst into laughter, doubling over as she imagined Kang actually trying to flirt. "Please," she managed between laughs. "Your 'charm' is about as subtle as a frying pan to the head."
Kang glared at her, but his lips twitched. "You know, you two are lucky you're my favorite chef and tyrant boss—or I'd be out of here, happily leaving you to clean up this disaster alone."
Yura smirked, crossing her arms. "Admit it, Kang. You'd be lost without us."
"Maybe," he grumbled, returning to his scrubbing with exaggerated vigor. "Or maybe I'd just have a lot less pumpkin puree in my hair.