Jiyeon was convinced that her mother's old rice cooker was haunted. It was the kind of battered, once-white appliance that had yellowed with age and looked like it might spontaneously combust if you breathed on it the wrong way. The thing had survived two power surges, a kitchen fire, and, somehow, Jiyeon's childhood experiments with trying to make rice pudding without any milk.
Kang, of course, was having a field day with this new information. "Let me get this straight," he said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "You're terrified of a rice cooker? The woman who faced down a Michelin food critic with a smile and sent them packing with an existential crisis is afraid of a rice cooker."
Jiyeon glared at him. "It's not just any rice cooker. It's demonic. It's got… sentience."
Yura snorted into her tea. "What, does it whisper dark secrets to you at night?"
Jiyeon crossed her arms defensively. "Laugh all you want, but that thing's cursed. One time, I tried to make porridge, and it erupted like a volcanic monster. My mom still tells the story at family gatherings."
Kang slapped the counter. "Please tell me someone recorded that. I need visual evidence."
"Why do I surround myself with enemies?" Jiyeon lamented, though a smile tugged at her lips. "Anyway, we're not here to talk about my traumatizing childhood kitchen experiences. We're supposed to be planning the next menu update."
Yura leaned forward, her expression a mixture of mischief and genuine curiosity. "Or… we could put a haunted rice cooker theme on the menu. Just imagine: Demonic Rice Porridge, guaranteed to either bless your taste buds or curse your soul."
Jiyeon groaned. "Stop giving Kang ideas. He'll take that and run with it. Next thing I know, we'll have black garlic rice served under a 'cursed' cloche with dry ice."
Kang's eyes lit up. "That's brilliant! And we could play ominous music in the background. Maybe add an element where the waitstaff have to pretend they're cursed, too."
Jiyeon buried her face in her hands. "I've created monsters. Both of you. Absolute culinary gremlins."
Yura smirked, her gaze gleaming with delight. "Hey, you're the one who married me. And as for Kang… well, you're the one who made him your sous chef. So really, this is all your fault."
Before Jiyeon could retort, a loud thunk came from the hallway. Everyone froze.
"Please tell me that wasn't another 'gift' from Chef Kang's pigeon nemesis," Jiyeon said, narrowing her eyes at her friend.
Kang looked genuinely offended. "First of all, that pigeon has a vendetta against me, not you. And second, I haven't seen the feathered demon in weeks. Maybe it finally gave up."
Yura raised a brow. "Or maybe it's plotting. Pigeons are smarter than they look. One of these days, you'll wake up to a coordinated pigeon attack. Feathers everywhere."
Jiyeon sighed. "If we're being haunted by birds now, I'm moving to a bunker. Preferably one with a pigeon-proof forcefield."
They ventured into the hallway to investigate, Kang clutching a frying pan like an absurd makeshift weapon. Jiyeon couldn't resist a snicker. "What's that for? Planning to sauté the intruder?"
Kang shrugged. "Hey, never underestimate the power of a well-seasoned cast iron. It's versatile."
Yura rolled her eyes. "Great. My legacy will be that my wife and her sous chef were taken out in a domestic kitchen brawl, armed with a frying pan and bad humor."
Jiyeon shot her a look over her shoulder. "Excuse me, bad humor? I'll have you know, my jokes are delightful."
"Sure," Yura deadpanned. "Delightfully cringe-inducing."
They finally located the source of the noise: a delivery box that had fallen off the entryway table. Jiyeon breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god. I was genuinely worried that pigeon had upgraded its attack strategy."
Kang eyed the box suspiciously. "Maybe it's a decoy. Sent to distract us while the real ambush is prepared."
Yura chuckled. "Kang, you need therapy. Or a hobby. Or both."
He grinned. "Cooking is my therapy. And annoying Jiyeon is my hobby. I'm living my best life."
Jiyeon groaned, kicking the box with her foot. "At least it's not ticking. We've had enough chaos for one day. Back to the kitchen, everyone, before Kang starts writing a novel about his epic feud with the Avian Mafia."
"Avian Mafia," Kang repeated, as if savoring the words. "I like that. It has a nice ring to it."
Yura looped her arm through Jiyeon's. "Come on, menace. Let's get back to pretending we're responsible adults."
They returned to the kitchen, where the evening stretched on in a series of bantering conversations and playful insults. Somehow, amidst all the chaos, Jiyeon realized she wouldn't trade this for the world. Haunted rice cookers, mischievous sous chefs, and all.
Kang leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. "So, are we really sticking to this traditional menu update or are we leaning into the 'haunted kitchen' theme? Because I've got ideas."
Jiyeon rubbed her temples, as if physically trying to keep her patience from escaping. "Kang, I swear, if you try to serve ghost pepper chili as 'haunted soup,' I'm throwing you into the walk-in freezer."
Kang pretended to consider it. "Hmm, 'haunted soup' sounds like a bestseller. Imagine the thrill, Jiyeon. Diners on the edge of their seats, sweat beading on their foreheads, wondering if they'll survive the meal."
Yura smirked. "I'd buy that. You could market it as an experience: 'Dinner that might haunt you forever.'"
Jiyeon glared at her wife. "Not you, too! My job is already a circus. I don't need you both auditioning for ringmaster."
Kang clapped his hands together. "Speaking of circuses, we could juggle flaming knives as a side performance."
Yura snorted. "Oh, that's a fantastic idea. I'd love to see Jiyeon trying to explain that to our insurance company. 'Yes, hi, we'd like coverage for our new kitchen act: Knife Juggling and Potential Arson.'"
Jiyeon's eyes narrowed. "You two are conspiring to give me a stroke, aren't you?"
Kang held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just here to add some spice. You know, metaphorically and literally."
"More like add some chaos," Jiyeon muttered, shaking her head. "Look, we're sticking to the planned menu, alright? No haunted soup, no flaming knife shows, and definitely no pigeon-themed vengeance desserts."
Yura's face lit up with faux innocence. "Now that you mention pigeons, a Coq au Vin served with an ominous pigeon motif might be hilarious. We could even add—"
Jiyeon cut her off. "No. Enough with the pigeons. I've had it up to here with Kang's feathered nemesis and the Avian Mafia conspiracy theories."
Kang grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Fine, fine. No pigeons. But you can't stop my creativity forever, Jiyeon. It's boundless."
"Boundless or brainless?" Jiyeon shot back, arching an eyebrow. "I'm still debating."
Kang put a hand over his heart, feigning injury. "Ouch. You wound me, Chef. Words hurt, you know."
Yura laughed, and the sound filled the kitchen, warm and familiar. Jiyeon found herself smiling despite the ridiculousness. Even if her sous chef was a walking disaster and her wife was a mischievous instigator, she couldn't imagine a life without them.
"Alright," Jiyeon said, exhaling. "Let's get serious for a moment. We need to make sure everything's perfect for the upcoming event. It's our chance to really put 'Flavor of Seoul' on the map."
Kang straightened up, the humor still lingering in his eyes but his expression turning more professional. "You got it. What's the game plan, boss?"
Jiyeon walked over to the prep table, spreading out her notes. "We're keeping the signature dishes: the kimchi-stuffed escargot, the truffle jeon, the matcha and black sesame mille-feuille. But I want to experiment with presentation."
Yura leaned over, studying the notes with interest. "What kind of presentation are we talking about?"
Jiyeon's eyes gleamed. "Minimalist yet striking. Think of each plate as an art piece. I want guests to feel like they're eating at an exhibition, but without sacrificing flavor. No gimmicks, just pure elegance."
Kang tilted his head. "So… no tiny plastic pigeons hidden under cloches?"
Jiyeon groaned. "Why do I put up with you?"
Kang's grin returned. "Because I'm a genius in the kitchen, and you know it. And also, you're secretly entertained by my antics."
"Entertained is a strong word," Jiyeon muttered, but she couldn't deny that he was right. His energy, even if exasperating, kept the team lively.
Yura's phone buzzed, and she pulled it out, her eyebrows lifting at whatever she saw on the screen. "Oh, speaking of entertaining, my parents are asking if they can visit 'Flavor of Seoul' tomorrow. Something about wanting to 'inspect' Jiyeon's culinary empire."
Jiyeon's heart skipped a beat. Min-Jun and Min-Seo, Yura's parents, were intimidating in their own right, though they'd always been supportive of her. Still, there was something nerve-wracking about having her in-laws scrutinize her work up close.
"Do they have a hidden agenda?" Jiyeon asked, only half-joking. "Are they coming to see if I'm still worthy of their precious daughter?"
Yura laughed. "Relax, they love you. But I won't lie; they'll probably ask you a thousand questions about your vision for the restaurant and why you haven't opened a chain in Paris yet."
Kang's eyes lit up at the mention of Paris. "Oh, can I come? I'll bring my pigeon theories and charm the Parisians."
Jiyeon gave him a look. "Absolutely not. If anyone's going to Paris, it's me and Yura. And we're leaving you here, preferably in a soundproof kitchen."
Kang feigned horror. "Abandoned by my own mentor? Left to fend off the Avian Mafia alone?"
Yura playfully patted his shoulder. "We'll send you a postcard."
Jiyeon couldn't help but laugh. As chaotic as her life had become since inheriting this Alpha body and its tangled web of relationships, she had to admit: she wouldn't trade it for anything. Not even for a Michelin star.