The Promise
Ding.
The sound of a text notification pulled her from her sleep. A hand snaked out from under the blanket, fumbling blindly beside the pillow. Her fingertips brushed against her phone. With eyes half-closed, she checked the screen.
[Your package has arrived. It has been left in front of your door.]
“Ugh… a package? I didn’t order anything.”
Seo Ihyeon squirmed under her duvet. Her body felt like lead; it was too much effort to even sit up. She had finished her shift, showered, and crawled into bed at seven in the morning. It was only eleven now. She’d barely managed four hours of sleep.
Rubbing her eyes, she forced herself upright. Her hair was a disaster—flattened on the right, exploding outward on the left. Still in her pajamas, she shuffled toward the entryway in her slippers. As soon as she opened the door, a massive box, reaching up to her waist, blocked her view.
“What is this…?”
She peered at the shipping label stuck to the top. Sender: Han Sujin.
“Mom sent this.”
She tried to lift the box but flinched at the weight. Using both hands, she dragged it across the floor, barely managing to pull it inside. She kicked the door shut and dropped the box in the middle of the living room. Tearing off the tape, she opened the lid. It was packed tight with ice packs. Between them, neatly stacked, were plastic-wrapped vegetables, meat, and various seasonings. Zucchini, onions, green onions, potatoes, carrots, spinach. Pork shoulder, beef for soup, pork belly. Even frozen shrimp and clams at the bottom.
Mom… isn’t this a bit too much?
It didn’t look like an amount meant for one person. It was enough to feed a family of four for a full week. Ihyeon crouched in front of the box and tapped her phone. It rang twice before the call connected.
“Hello?”
“Mom, it’s me.”
“Oh, my daughter! Why? Is something wrong?”
“No, the package arrived.”
“It’s there already? I sent it yesterday, that’s fast.”
Ihyeon looked back into the box. “But Mom, what is all this? It’s way too much.”
“What do you mean, too much? You’re always eating convenience store lunches, aren’t you? You’ll get malnourished like that.”
“I won’t…”
“Won’t, my foot! You’ve lost more weight, haven’t you? I don’t even need to see you to know.”
Ihyeon pouted instead of answering. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Your dad is fine, too. How about you?”
“I’m fine, nothing special.”
“That’s exactly what worries me, dear.”
“You don’t have to worry. I’m eating well.”
“You barely eat when I’m there to feed you, and you expect me to believe you’re eating well on your own?”
She couldn’t win that argument. “Okay, okay. I’ll eat well.”
“Good, make sure you do. Put the meat in the freezer first. It shouldn’t thaw.”
“Okay.”
“And Ihyeon?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t overwork yourself. If it gets too hard, call me anytime.”
“I know, Mom. I’m hanging up now.”
She ended the call and set the phone on her knees. The ingredients in the box were piled like a mountain. Ihyeon sighed. *What am I supposed to do with all this?*
She opened her fridge. It contained only a single bottle of water and half a block of tofu. There was plenty of space, but the sheer volume was the problem. No matter how much she stuffed into the freezer, there was no way she could handle this alone.
*It would be nice to share it…*
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, a face appeared in her head. The person who only ate chicken breast. The person who had suggested they eat together. The person who lived right next door.
*Yoon Taegon.*
She remembered what he’d said in the hallway that day: *"If you're that sorry, why don't you just have a meal with me?"*
She had been too busy crying her eyes out to process it then, but the words were clear in her memory. *Right, he was the one who asked to eat together. And since I have so much food now…*
With that, Ihyeon moved. She put on her slippers and opened her front door. The cold air of the hallway brushed against her face. She stood in front of his door.
Thump-thump.
Her heart raced. She clenched her fist and knocked.
Knock, knock-knock.
She heard movement inside. Footsteps approached, and the door opened.
Taegon opened the door. Standing before him was the woman from next door, Seo Ihyeon.
*What’s she doing here this early?*
Ihyeon’s hair was a mess. One side was flattened, while the other puffed out like a bird’s nest. Her outfit looked incredibly casual, too—a large gray t-shirt over plaid shorts, with slippers dragging on the floor. Given her half-closed eyes and the clear pillow crease on her cheek, she had definitely just woken up.
“What is it?” Taegon asked.
Ihyeon opened her mouth, then hesitated.
“...?”
Taegon tilted his head, confused. Ihyeon’s gaze traveled from his face down to her own body. Pajamas. Slippers. Messy hair. Her face turned bright red.
“Oh, oh—just a second!”
She shouted with a beet-red face and spun around. Her slippers slapped against the hallway floor as she scrambled back into her apartment.
SLAM!
Her door shut. Taegon leaned against the doorframe, staring at the empty hallway. A moment later, he noticed one of her slippers lying on the floor.
“What is this, even at lunchtime?”
Taegon muttered, scratching his head. He hadn’t even gotten to ask why she came; she’d appeared like a storm and vanished just as quickly. He picked up the stray slipper and placed it neatly in front of her door, then went back inside.
*She’ll probably be back in a bit.*
Taegon sat on his sofa and picked up his phone.
Knock, knock-knock.
An hour later, there was another knock. When he opened the door, a different person stood there. The messy hair from before was neatly tied back, and she was wearing a clean knit sweater and jeans instead of pajamas. Her face looked freshly washed. However, the tips of her ears were still red—a lingering effect of the earlier incident.
Ihyeon stood there, fidgeting with her clasped hands.
“Um,” she said, bowing her head slightly.
“Yes?”
“My mom sent me a lot of things…”
“Yes?”
“I don’t think I can eat it all by myself. Would you like to eat with me at my place?”
Taegon watched her face steadily before replying. “Eating together is fine, but… are you sure it’s okay to just invite a man into your home like that?”
Ihyeon blinked in surprise. “...Yes?”
“I mean, how many times have we even seen each other? What are you going to do if you just invite people over like this?”
“Oh… th-that is…” She tightened her grip on her clasped hands. Her knuckles turned white.
“I just thought it would be better to cook for ourselves than to eat out…”
“That may be true, but…”
“Yes?”
“What does that have to do with inviting a man into your home?”
Ihyeon’s expression stiffened slightly. It was clear on her face that her excitement was shrinking with every word Taegon spoke.
“It’s, it’s just healthier, and the ingredients are fresh… and Mom sent me such good things…” Her voice grew smaller. “I have so many ingredients, I can’t eat them all alone… I don’t have any other intentions, really, just a meal…”
Her voice trailed off. Her head, which had been lowering bit by bit, finally stopped at her own feet. The brightness in her eyes from moments ago vanished, replaced by a dejected slump. Her clasped hands hung limply at her sides.
Taegon watched her and thought, *Inviting a man over just because you have leftovers? This person really has no idea how scary the world is. What would she have done if I were a dangerous person?*
It was true that cooking was better than eating out. But inviting a man she barely knew? That was a complete lack of caution. *She was threatened with a knife by an intruder just a few days ago… has she learned nothing?*
Taegon sighed. Her defenselessness gave him a headache, but on the other hand, this was the perfect opportunity to close the distance with his target. He’d been looking for an excuse to approach her, and since she’d knocked on his door first, he had no reason to refuse.
“Alright.”
When Taegon agreed, Ihyeon’s head snapped up. “Really?”
“Yes. Let’s eat together.”
“Are you sure? If you’re being forced to do this, you don’t have to…”
“No. I’ve been getting tired of eating nothing but chicken breast. I wanted to eat something else for a change, so this works out well.”
Ihyeon’s expression brightened instantly. The eyes that had been downcast just a moment ago began to sparkle.
“Th-then, come this way!”
She turned quickly and led him toward her apartment. Taegon put on his slippers and followed her inside. It was the same layout as his own studio apartment, but the small decorations scattered around changed the atmosphere entirely. Artificial flowers in a glass bottle on the small dining table. Seasoning jars lined up next to the sink. A postcard stuck to the wall.
*She must like things like this.*
In the middle of the living room, the large box of ingredients sat half-open.
“Oh, please, sit here,” she said, hurriedly pulling out a dining chair for him.
“Thank you.”
As Taegon sat down, a pink rose caught his eye. It was an artificial flower, but it was crafted with surprising care. Ihyeon began pulling ingredients from the box and laying them out on the sink.
“What should I make? Taegon-ssi, is there any food you like?”
“Not particularly. I eat anything.”
“‘Anything’ isn’t a real answer. What do you want to eat?”
“Really, anything is fine.”
“That makes it hard to choose…”
Ihyeon muttered, picking up the ingredients one by one. “How about soybean paste stew and pork belly? Mom sent some soybean paste, too.”
“I’d love that.”
“Are you okay with spicy food?”
“Yes. I eat it well.”
“That’s a relief. Then I’ll add some Cheongyang chili peppers to make it nice and spicy.”
Ihyeon put on an apron and began to cook. She placed a zucchini on the cutting board and picked up a knife.
Chop, chop, chop.
The knife struck the board in a steady rhythm. There was no hesitation in her movements. She didn’t measure the seasoning; she went by feel. Taegon sat at the table, watching her.
“You’re a good cook.”
At Taegon’s compliment, Ihyeon’s chopping stopped. Her head turned slowly toward him.
“...R-really?”
“Yes. Watching you handle the knife, you seem quite experienced.”
“Th-this much is nothing…”
“It’s not ‘nothing.’ You seem quite skilled. The thickness is very consistent.”
Ihyeon’s eyes widened. She pressed her lips together, trying to stop a smile from bursting out, but she couldn’t hide the joy rising within her. Eventually, a childlike laugh escaped her parted lips.
“Heh, hehehehe.”
Her face flushed red, and her eyes curved into crescents. “I-I’m sorry. I’ve never really been complimented before…”
Ihyeon muttered softly. Her hand holding the knife trembled slightly. “Except for my parents, no one has ever complimented me…”
Her shoulders hunched slightly. Taegon tilted his head. “That’s strange.”
“Yes?”
“I mean, that no one has complimented you. You’re so good at cooking.”
“It must be because I’m lacking… there’s nothing about me worth complimenting.”
“Then,” Taegon said, crossing his arms, “I’ll do it for you from now on.”
“...”
Her hand stopped again. The knife remained frozen on the cutting board.
“...Yes?”
“Compliments. If I see you doing something well, I’ll tell you right away. It’s not that hard of a thing to do.”
Her heart sank. It was a sound only Ihyeon could hear—clear and sharp. The vibration that shook her chest didn’t stop at just one beat. Her heart, having missed its rhythm, began to pound violently.
Thump, thump, thump.
She looked at Taegon. The man who had spoken those words was resting his chin on his hand, looking languid. He clearly had no idea how lethal his words had been to her. That careless kindness had pierced her chest with pinpoint accuracy.
*He’ll… compliment me a lot? This person? To me?*
Ihyeon’s gaze shifted. The childlike, bright smile was gone. Her pupils dilated, and something flickered in her brown eyes—a light that looked like a flame, or perhaps an obsession. Her unfocused eyes stared at Taegon.
“Th-then…”
Ihyeon turned to face him fully. The knife in her hand caught the sunlight, flashing sharply.
“I-I’ll make it for you anytime. If Taegon-ssi will just compliment me… I, really, anytime.”
“Even if I ask every day?”
Ihyeon nodded vigorously. She looked like a child who had discovered a treasure. “Every day is fine. No, you have to come every day.”
“Oh, really? Well, that’s good for me.”
Taegon replied lightly, as if it were nothing. At his affirmation, Ihyeon’s eyes sparkled.
“R-really? Then should I make it for you tomorrow, too? And the day after?”
“If it’s possible.”
“It’s fine. I have plenty of ingredients.”
Ihyeon whispered low. Her tone was laced with an excuse to stay with him no matter what. Taegon smiled and nodded.
“Understood. Then I’ll be counting on you, Ihyeon-ssi.”
He had agreed without much thought. Eating together was the best way to track his target’s movements, and he figured her home-cooked meals were nutritionally superior to his usual chicken breast.
She picked up the knife again.
Slicing, slicing.
The chopping resumed. The rhythm was still steady, and her movements were precise. Everything looked the same as before, but one thing had changed. No matter how hard she tried to suppress it, the corners of Ihyeon’s mouth kept creeping upward. She looked like she was having the time of her life.
The emotions swirling in her eyes couldn’t be expressed by a single word like ‘joy.’
*He said he’d compliment me. He said he’d do it a lot. He said it was good when I said I’d cook for him anytime. That means he needs me!*
Taegon’s words repeated endlessly in Ihyeon’s head. The carrots on the board were sliced into uniform pieces. Her eyes were fixed not on the carrots, but on the blade. Her smile remained.
“Hehehe.”
A small laugh escaped her again. Taegon was looking at his phone, so he didn’t notice her expression. The soybean paste stew began to bubble on the stove. A savory aroma filled the small studio apartment.
Ihyeon stirred the stew with a ladle and muttered to herself, in a voice too quiet for anyone else to hear:
“I’ll cook for you every day.”
Her smile deepened.
“Every day, every day, every day, every day, every day, every day, every day, every day.”
Her eyes were curved like half-moons. It looked like a gentle smile, or perhaps the look of someone possessed. Steam rose from the stew, and the pork belly sizzled. It was supposed to be an ordinary lunch. At least, for Taegon.