Chef Byo helps Yura with plating and placing her meal on the dining table after giving her a dishtowel to use to wipe the tears from her face, not that it could hide the redness left behind or the now puffy appearance of her eyes.
"When did you learn to cook?" Chef Byo asks with all the kindness of a beloved elder.
Yura pauses for a moment before she continues chopping scallions into fine pieces and gathering them into a small dish for anybody who wants to add them to their breakfast. "I stayed with my great aunt for a while when I was a kid. She needed help because of the arthritis in her hands, and it was getting hard for her to do simple tasks. That included cooking, so she'd direct me in the kitchen. After that, I decided to keep learning what I could."
For Yura, staying with her great aunt is a better memory than some of her other relatives. Although they turned out not to be related by blood, she felt like family in that small house, learning how to cook under the guidance of a strict yet kind teacher.
It was a shame when her great aunt's health continued to worsen, leading to her needing care that a young Yura was unable to provide. So, she had to go back to live with the Quins as they treated her like a bug they couldn't wait to get rid of until they found another relative or family friend to take her in.
Eventually, the boarding school became the greatest blessing of her life and the closest she's been to happy so far. And now, she's just hoping that making a simple meal will be enough to earn a bit of goodwill from her new family.
Her real family.
Chef Byo is good at what he does. Of course, he is. He leads the kitchen of the most prominent family in the country. It'd be an embarrassment if he wasn't an expert at his craft.
He doesn't take over or shoo Yura out, and he instead becomes her assistant without commenting on how simple the dishes she's prepared are.
"If you want to keep learning because you enjoy it, I'd be happy to teach you," Chef Byo says. "But I don't want you to learn because you feel like you have to."
It's not the kind of request that Yura is used to.
"Okay."
She looks at the dishes she's prepared. It's satisfying to take ingredients and turn them into something delicious. From the beginning, she's always felt that pride when cooking, and it's helped her earn goodwill when she ended up in a new home. At times, it was how she earned a place to sleep. But Chef Byo isn't offering to teach her if it's a skill she feels like she needs to know if she wants a home to stay in. He's offering to teach her if she's interested. The truth is that she's never thought about whether she truly enjoys cooking or not. Beyond the pride and usefulness that's come from it, is there a genuine joy there, too?
"But I don't know," Yura says. "If it's a skill I enjoy or one I see as a necessity. I don't know yet."
"That's okay," Chef Byo says, placing the food Yura made onto a silver rolling tray. "Take your time and find what makes you happy. If you don't want to cook again, this old chef will keep you fed."
Yura follows him through the hall to a nearby dining room where the Daesuns are already seated, each one prepared for their day in clothes that leave her suddenly feeling underdressed in the simple outfit she put on to cook.
Saeri, her mom, is the one who tries to make her feel comfortable by patting the empty seat beside her. "Yura, dear, come sit down. I'm glad you're joining us for breakfast."
Yura obeys her and sits, stiff and uncertain.
"She isn't just joining you for breakfast, Madam," Chef Byo says as he sets out the dishes. "She made breakfast. The Young Miss had everything prepared before I even set foot in the kitchen."
Yura feels everyone's eyes on her and dares to glance around at their expressions. They're mostly bewildered, which she expected, but there's a mix of confusion that she can't figure out. Are they confused that she tried to be useful, or is it confusion about what she made? She stuck to simple dishes, but maybe it's too simple for a family this rich. Maybe they're used to a much nicer breakfast, and she just ruined their day with her attempt to be sincere.
Her mom puts her hand on Yura's shoulder, making her flinch with the unexpected touch. She was too lost in her thoughts, and she turns her head to see her mom with her hand pulled back, hovering in the space between them as if Yura's flinch burned her.
"It was very thoughtful of you to make breakfast, Yura," her mom says. "But you didn't need to."
"I just wanted to show you that I'm sincere. That I can help with things."
The shared bewilderment towards her gesture shifts to confusion and what Yura thinks might be... concern?
This time, her dad speaks. "What do you mean?"
With a deep breath, Yura steadies herself and looks down at her hands that she's folded in her lap. This is it. She'll propose a deal, and she doesn't have it in her to watch her parents decide through their expressions if it's a deal they're willing to take. She doesn't want to hope too much, but she also doesn't want to see what face they might make if they find her proposal unsatisfactory.
"I can help with things," Yura says again. "Like cooking and other chores. I'm good at it, even though you probably have hired workers. But I just want to use the room you gave me last night in return. Just until I finish high school and can move to a university. I'll be like a mouse if you want. Just... please let me stay until then."
Yura blinks back the hot tears building behind her eyes. She thought that this would be easy. That she could sound logical and not like a begging child, but laying out the truth feels like tearing open the wound of abandonment that's been festering throughout her life.
And now that she's spoken, the silence of waiting is deafening.