Chapter 22
Chief, You Smell… Delicious
How many stops had passed?
Siwan was the first to speak.
“I’m not sure if I should say this…”
“Huh?”
Hana froze for a moment.
Is this about that guy earlier calling him my boyfriend?
She should’ve immediately denied it, but she was too flustered and didn’t. Of course, Siwan could have taken offense.
Should she apologize? But wouldn’t it be strange to apologize for that?
She didn’t say he was her boyfriend—so why apologize? If she did have to apologize for not denying it, then Siwan should apologize too, since he didn’t deny it either.
No… do you even apologize for something like that in the first place?
While Hana was feeling needlessly small, Siwan continued with a very serious expression.
“Today’s lunch… is it flounder seaweed soup?”
“…Huh?”
The question was so unexpected that Hana let out a dumb little sound before she could stop herself.
“Ah… is it not?”
Siwan scratched his nose in embarrassment, and Hana snapped out of her daze.
“It is! Flounder seaweed soup! How did you know?”
Her eyes were already big, but now they seemed ready to pop right out.
At her reaction, a smile bloomed on Siwan’s face.
When expressionless, he could look rather intimidating, but when he smiled, his whole demeanor changed.
“Ah… it just smelled like flounder seaweed soup.”
“Smell?”
Hana quickly pulled up her hoodie and sniffed herself.
I don’t smell anything… did it get on my hair?
She was careful to carry her lunch in an almost perfectly sealed lunch bag so as not to bother people on the subway with food smells.
Especially today, with the wind blowing hard—any smell that might have stuck to her clothes or hair would have blown away on the walk to the station.
She even considered letting her hair down to sniff it just in case.
Meanwhile, Siwan was sinking into deep regret.
Ah, am I crazy? Why would I ask that!
If her first impression of him was already “weird guy,” this just upgraded him to “seriously weird guy.”
How was he supposed to answer her question about how he knew?
You smelled like it.
That would make him sound insane.
I smelled it from your bag.
That would just seem rude.
And if he said that, she might start worrying that her lunch had leaked.
Sure enough, before he could answer, Hana—having sniffed her clothes—was already opening her bag to check her lunch.
Siwan decided to go for a direct approach.
“Ever since I was young, I’ve had a very sensitive sense of smell. Even if others can’t smell something, I can. Especially food.”
“Ah…”
Siwan wanted to smack himself.
In short, he’d basically just told her, You smell like food.
He quickly waved his hands and added—
“Ah, I don’t mean that in a bad way. You smell nice. Like something delicious.”
He should’ve just kept his mouth shut.
Now he just sounded like a pervert.
Hana’s eyes were starting to look… odd.
Then, from the next seat over, the middle-aged man muttered—
“That’s a fresh way to confess. Young people these days are bold.”
Siwan wanted to shout, How is this a confession?! but now wasn’t the time.
How am I supposed to fix this?
He had never been this tense in his life. He was so nervous, he could feel sweat popping out of his scalp.
Siwan assumed Hana was looking at him like he was a weirdo—but in reality, it was different.
Her eyes were wide with curiosity.
It wasn’t hard to guess “seaweed soup” from a smell. What amazed her was that he’d nailed flounder seaweed soup exactly.
When you think of seaweed soup, you usually picture beef or clam seaweed soup, right?
Hana asked in an excited voice—
“You can tell it’s flounder seaweed soup just by smell?”
Not You smelled me? or Do I smell?—so Siwan silently cheered.
He cleared his throat a few times and steadied himself. He couldn’t say anything stupid again.
“It’s just a useless little skill of mine. I can usually tell what ingredients were used and how they were cooked just from the smell.”
Hana frowned slightly and leaned in closer.
Siwan instantly tensed.
Did I say something wrong again? Also… wow, up close, she looks even more like Ppuing. Cute.
She looked like she was about to scold him—but somehow, to him, that was cute. Blame the kimchi fried rice.
Forgetting they were in a subway, Hana spoke rather loudly—
“What do you mean useless skill, Chief? That’s amazing!”
“Ah… well, I wouldn’t say amazing…”
Suddenly, Hana clapped her hands.
“Now it makes sense! Back in the break room, the first time we met—you knew exactly what was in the kimchi fried rice and how it was made without even tasting it. I was so shocked!”
First time we met…?
Thinking back, he realized he had probably come across as a lunatic. His face heated at the memory.
“Th-that time, I didn’t rely only on the smell. I observed it directly, so I could figure out the details.”
“Ah! Then maybe…”
Hana suddenly opened her bag and reached inside.
After some rummaging, she pulled out a round, flat stainless steel container.
“This is flounder seaweed soup. If you look at it directly, you could figure out the cooking process in even more detail, right?”
For a split second, Siwan remembered his old boss in the U.S., who had once told him to “say something in English” just because he’d studied abroad.
But Hana’s eyes were nothing like his old boss’s.
His boss’s eyes had been looking for something to criticize. Hana’s eyes were brimming with pure expectation.
Siwan was used to being expected to perform—but this time, it felt different. A pleasant sort of pressure.
He didn’t want to disappoint her.
He wanted to live up to her expectations.
He replied seriously—
“I think I can.”
She carefully opened the lid and held it out to him.
Instantly, a rich, savory aroma enveloped him.
In the enclosed space, the smell spread in seconds.
The man next to them swallowed hard, glancing around to find the source.
He’d eaten a bowl of soup before boarding the subway, but now his stomach was growling.
Other passengers also seemed to notice, pretending not to sniff while clearly taking in the scent.
Siwan was no different.
No—his reaction was stronger.
It was like that moment, years ago, when he’d first taken a punch from his martial arts master and his vision had gone hazy.
His stomach roared for him to devour it immediately. His mouth watered like a geyser.
It’s not just the kimchi fried rice!
Maybe… maybe the other dishes she made would also be ones he could eat.
He wanted it.
Right now, he wanted to drink that violently tempting soup right out of the container.
“If I give you an answer you’re satisfied with…”
“Yes?”
“…give this to me.”
“…?”
He knew it was petty. But he wanted this flounder seaweed soup badly enough to beg for it.
Afraid she might refuse, he added quickly—
“Flounder seaweed soup is my favorite kind of seaweed soup. And it’s been a really long time since I’ve had any. Haha.”
He said it like a joke—but it wasn’t.
He truly loved seaweed soup, and flounder seaweed soup most of all. And it had been about twenty years since he’d last had it.
Hana must have sensed his sincerity, because she nodded firmly.
“I can’t just give you the soup—so I’ll give you the rice too. Actually, I’ll just give you the whole lunch. By the way, today’s side dishes are…”
“Beef jangjorim with quail eggs, stir-fried kimchi, and a fried egg.”
“…That’s exactly right! You can have it all.”
If no one had been watching, Siwan would’ve danced on the spot.
He had only been hoping for a taste of the soup—but she was giving him the whole lunch.
Oh, Ju Hana.
A sudden faith bloomed in him—not in the Lord, but in this Lord Hana.
Still, as a department head, he couldn’t just pounce on the offer…
But he also feared she might change her mind.
“You’re promising, right?”
“Yes!”
