The sky breathed in a pale milky white.

The rice-flower blooms here and there, the land spread out like a salt flat, even the shadows. The whole world looked washed out.

In that strange white view, Hae-som thought she felt like a lost sheep.

She had no idea where she was supposed to go, or even what world she was standing in now.

Still, something felt wrong. No matter how long she walked, night never came, and the same scene kept repeating like film rolling over a screen.

It did not take her long to realize that this strange world was a dream.

She saw it every other day. Maybe even every day.

Brushing a hand under her tired eyes, Hae-som let out something like a sigh.

“I want to sleep.”

Not this shallow sleep in a world like white daylight.

If she could just fall into a deep sleep in the middle of the night, she would want for nothing.

As if mocking that desperate wish, a soft alarm sound rang from somewhere.

It was the air-raid warning that always went off after she had slept for barely an hour and a half.

“Haah.”

Hae-som slowly forced open her heavy eyelids. At the end of her unfocused gaze, the curtain stirred.

Fresh summer air, the kind she could never smell in a dream, brushed the tip of her nose.

“How many days has it been now, having the same dream?”

She pushed aside the bangs damp with cold sweat and clipped them back. Then she slapped her puffed cheeks a few times.

The sting woke up her senses for a moment, but her hazy mind soon sank back under damp sleep.

She was used to her sleep schedule changing whenever it pleased, but that did not make the timing any less cruel.

“Why does it have to happen during the busiest week?”

It was tasting week, so the ingredients coming in were doubled, and the work was doubled too. She was already treated like the one everyone could push around, and now, instead of showing what she could do, she was stumbling around half asleep.

Even she thought she was hopeless. Hae-som shook her head and climbed out of bed. Through the tightly shut door, she could already smell something good.

Beyond the six-seat dining table stretched out in the morning sun, her mother, Moon Jong-im, was busy setting breakfast.

“I was just about to wake you up. Come eat.”

It looked like a full feast for breakfast. Rich smells rushed at her from every side.

“It must be because it came straight from the mountains. Even the smell is different.”

Side dishes made from wild greens, each taking a lot of work, were set on the table one after another.

Thinking of her mother getting up early and making all this by herself, Hae-som sighed before she even felt hungry.

“You should’ve done this on your day off. Why tire yourself out alone?”

“The monk sent us something precious. We should eat it while it’s fresh.”

Fresh-cooked rice and cold leftover rice sat across from each other. Moon Jong-im naturally took the leftover rice and set a few stems of chwinamul on Hae-som’s spoon.

“Try this first. Funny enough, it tastes like pine mushroom.”

With how badly sleep-deprived she was, there was no way she could taste pine mushroom. But she knew her mother was trying to get her to eat something, so Hae-som nodded as if she did.

“It’s good.”

“What an honor, hearing that from a chef. Guess it was worth running around this early.”

The act fell apart after only a few bites. Her mother caught her scraping at the surface of the rice like she was hoeing dirt.

“Why are you eating like that? Does it taste bad because your mom made it?”

She just had no appetite.

After coming back from Hunam-sa, her insomnia had shown signs that it might finally ease, but now it was back to nothing. She was sick of those naps that felt like sleeping in a world of white daylight.

Her sleep, which had gone over three or four hours, had now been cut in half. That was a hard hit.

Moon Jong-im reached across the table and stroked Hae-som’s rough cheek. The soft touch almost made her cry for no reason.

“The monk worked so hard to put some weight on you, and now you’ve gone thin again already. I feel awful for my youngest.”

“I can just call it dieting.”

“You seemed to be sleeping better lately. Did going to Hunam-sa upset you?”

No. If anything, the short stretch where she had felt a little better had not been because of the monk. It had been because of Jae-geon.

He had a special talent for making every nerve in her body tense up until her insides felt worn out. Only after dealing with him could she finally loosen up enough to fall into a deep sleep.

Even after he had all but forced her into his car, leaving her feeling uneasy the whole ride, her body and mind had gone slack in a strange way.

Was it because he looked like Eun-ho? Because his voice was nice? She had no idea what kind of trick Jung Jae-geon had pulled, but the sleep that followed was deeper and darker than before.

Exactly the kind of sleep Hae-som needed.

That was why dumb thoughts would slip into her head sometimes. Since she could sleep after getting scolded by Jae-geon, maybe she should make herself act stupid on purpose.

It was obvious that Jae-geon had been on edge lately because of the new menu tasting, so there probably was not a better time to rub him the wrong way.

Maybe this was what it felt like to clutch at straws. The only fix she had found was getting scolded. Even she thought that was ridiculous. And sad.

---

Starting with the appetizer and moving through the entrée, the chef’s demo only reached the main section after more than three full hours had passed.

Even after all that time, Jae-geon came over to Hae-som’s station without looking tired at all.

“Did you prep all the ingredients?”

“Yes, Chef.”

Maybe she had finally built up some resistance to the pine scent that always came with him. Hae-som answered him without even blinking.

If anything, Jae-geon was the one avoiding her eyes.

His gaze pulled away from Hae-som in a hurry and swept over the station. His fingers tapped the table one by one as if checking the recipe and ingredients against each other, then curled into a fist like he had found no fault.

“I’ll announce the final menu assignments. Sweetfish sasljeok, Han Seung-jun.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Braised short ribs, Park Hwi.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Imja-sutang, Yoo Jae-min.”

“Yes, Chef!”

“Special dish, sea urchin brûlée, Han Seung-jun. Seong Hae-som, you’ll assist him.”

“Yes, Chef.”

After those replies, each carrying their own grim resolve, the chefs scattered back to their stations.

Seung-jun took charge of the large sweetfish. Hwi grilled slices of radish over a rack blazing with fire, almost like he was doing calçotada. Then Jae-min started working on the chicken, and Hae-som was left completely on her own.

She was supposed to assist Seung-jun, but he was too focused on the sweetfish to spare her any attention.

Wait—does that mean I’m the only one left with Chef?

A tension as hot as the kitchen itself rose from the tips of her toes.

This was the perfect chance to get scolded by Jae-geon. She needed to make a smart mistake, one that would not ruin the test.

Hae-som sharpened her weak-looking eyes and turned her head toward where Jae-geon stood.

“……”

Their eyes met head-on.

As always, Jae-geon was the first to look away.

Why? Had she done something wrong?

Was he annoyed that she had taken a ride in the chef’s car and then, on top of that, fallen dead asleep without a care in the world, even though she was just the youngest one there?

As her gaze lingered, Jae-geon’s Adam’s apple moved once, hard.

A bad feeling hit her that her plan was about to fail. If she wanted to sleep tonight, she had to get Jae-geon’s attention somehow.

“Seong Hae-som, wait for now and join later.”

He did not scold her. He barely even looked at her.

Hae-som bit down on her lip for no reason, then shot Jae-geon one long, regretful look before stepping into the walk-in fridge.

If she wasted enough time in there, sooner or later Jae-geon would come storming in and say something about her slacking off. Just like last time.

Holding on to that hope, she stayed until her lips nearly turned blue, but there was no sign of Jae-geon. No sign of the other chefs either. By the time it felt like frost might form on her eyebrows, Hae-som thought of one last plan.

“Haah. I really didn’t want to go this far.”

She untied the apron strings around her waist and tied them back in a mess. The bow sat crooked, and the bottom edge of the apron hung so loose it almost brushed the floor.

With his neat-freak, almost obsessive nature, there was no way he could let that slide.

As grim as her seniors had been when they faced the new menu, Hae-som threw open the walk-in door.

Her eyes met Jae-geon’s straight on. He was leaning one hip against the chef’s table and looking right at her.

In that moment, Hae-som clearly saw the tiniest twist in Jae-geon’s brow.

“……”

“……”

By this point, he really should have said something about how sloppy her clothes looked.

But his damp-looking lips showed no sign of opening. He just kept staring at her messy apron with odd patience.

The unfairness of it made Hae-som’s shoulders slump. The stubborn pride she had worked so hard to hold up crumpled at once, and the way she turned back toward Seung-jun showed her plain defeat.

While fixing the apron strings she had tied badly on purpose, she asked in a gloomy voice,

“Team Leader, is there anything I can help with?”

At a place Hae-som could not see, the corner of Jae-geon’s mouth quietly loosened.