The sky over that afternoon was pale white, blanketed by spring clouds not yet ready to leave. Cars moved back and forth in front of the famous restaurant district, where Kim Group dominated the corner with its sleek, high-end restaurant branches packed with long waiting lines. Standing in front of one was Kim Mingyu... a tall man in an expensive, unbuttoned blazer, hands in his pockets, and a sly smirk resting on a face far too handsome not to be infuriating. He squinted across the street at a small restaurant's nameplate. A modest hanok-style place, now nearly empty. Its paint was peeling. The windows fogged. The curtains inside looked dull. Only one table was occupied, and that by an old man who looked more like a sympathetic neighbor than a paying customer.

Behind that restaurant, Mingyu knew exactly who was in the kitchen... an elderly woman, the owner and cook. And the one who would serve every customer with that notorious unfriendly attitude? None other than her daughter. That girl. His rival since the first semester of college. The girl who always sat two seats behind him, who rolled her eyes at every presentation comment he made, who never smiled when she saw his face.

And oddly enough, Mingyu never got tired of provoking her. Every time he made one of his father's restaurants go viral with some crazy new fusion dish or Instagrammable plating, he made sure to stand right here, across the street, watching the 'Welcome' sign of her little restaurant slowly turn into a 'Going Out of Business' poster.

Today, he decided to walk in. The wooden doorbell rang as it opened. No smile. No greeting. Just the sound of footsteps from the kitchen... her footsteps. She wore a brown apron, no makeup, and that familiar expressionless face. Their eyes met, and as always, it didn't spark warmth. It sparked tension. That kind of electric charge that only two people who constantly annoy each other without reason could create. Mingyu sat at the front table and lazily placed his phone on the surface, glancing at the simple menu printed on laminated paper. The girl stood beside the table, silent.

One minute. Two minutes.

Mingyu turned with a half-hearted grin. Pretending to think. But his intention had been clear from the beginning... to mock. To poke. To savor the last drops of pride from this restaurant before it inevitably shut down. The girl's stare was still sharp, her jaw clenched. But she noted his order anyway. One seaweed soup. One bowl of rice. One warm barley tea. When she returned with the food, she placed it down without a word. No glance. No kindness. No small talk.

Mingyu tasted it slowly, pretending to swallow with effort. Then he looked toward the mother who had just stepped out of the kitchen with a warm smile, clearly unaware of what was about to come out of the young man's mouth. And with a voice loud enough for both the mother and the only customer to hear, Mingyu stirred his tea and said,

"No wonder this place is always empty. Even the food tastes lonely when the seller doesn't know how to smile. Maybe what you really need isn't a new recipe, but a giant discount sign before this place starves to death."

**[ WELCOME TO AU SEVENTEEN! KIM MINGYU IS HERE! HAVE A GOOD TIME<3 ]**