Chapter 191: Flavors, Friends, And Fragile Peace

Kane glanced at Cyrus, who gave an almost imperceptible nod.

"If you’re sure we wouldn’t be intruding..." Kane slid into the booth beside Rina.

Cyrus settled next to Isabelle with his usual elegant composure, though Kane noticed the slight tension in his shoulders.

The server, finally sensing an opportunity, distributed menus before retreating.

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the thumping bass line of a girl group’s latest hit.

Isabelle straightened her silverware mechanically. Rina studied her menu like it contained state secrets. Cyrus examined the built-in grill with scientific interest.

Kane drummed his fingers against the table, the awkwardness thick enough to cut with chopsticks.

"We’ll take the premium hanwoo set for four," Cyrus announced when the server returned, his voice cutting through the K-pop beats.

"Also a portion of ribeye, short ribs, and bulgogi. Also the lobster tail add-on and—"

"Cyrus." Kane grabbed his wrist before he could continue. "This isn’t Aurelia. The portions here could feed a small army."

Rina snorted with laughter. "He’s right. One hanwoo set feeds like six people."

"I can eat," Isabelle said quietly, a hint of amusement in her ice-blue eyes.

Cyrus looked genuinely puzzled. "But the menu says ’set for four.’"

"That’s Korean restaurant math," Kane explained patiently. "It’s like pizza slices. The numbers are more like... suggestions."

Cyrus leaned back, clearly out of his element. "Perhaps you should order."

Kane felt a warm flutter at the trust in Cyrus’s voice.

"One hanwoo set," Kane told the server. "Since someone has expensive taste in beef."

Cyrus’s expression shifted from puzzled to mildly offended. "There’s nothing wrong with having a refined palate."

"Never said it was wrong; we are accommodating." Kane smiled.

"Also, we ordered the bulgogi set before you arrived," Rina chimed in. "Between that and the hanwoo, we’ll have more than enough for all four of us."

The server nodded and disappeared, leaving them with the industrial-grade grill humming to life in the center of their table.

Isabelle reached for the provided aprons. "I should warn you, I tend to be... methodical about grilling."

"Control freak," Rina translated with a grin, earning a sharp look from Isabelle.

"Efficient," Isabelle corrected primly, though her lips twitched.

Kane watched the exchange with growing amusement. Rina’s easy teasing and Isabelle’s careful responses painted a picture of something new and tentative between them.

Cyrus leaned back in the booth, observing. "How long has this been happening?"

"It’s complicated." Rina spoke simultaneously with Isabelle.

Kane bit back a laugh. "Right. Nothing complicated about two people having lunch together at a romantic Korean BBQ place."

"It’s not romantic," Isabelle protested. "The lighting is fluorescent."

"The décor screams ’casual dining,’" Rina added helpfully.

The server returned with platters that transformed their table into a small feast.

The Hanwoo beef arrived in perfect marbled slices, crimson and fat white threading through the meat like abstract art.

The bulgogi came pre-marinated, dark and glistening with soy and sesame oil.

Banchan dishes crowded the remaining space—kimchi, pickled radish, bean sprouts, and at least six other small plates.

Kane automatically reached for the tongs, adjusting the grill’s temperature.

"Thank god," Rina exhaled dramatically. "Kane’s here to cook."

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "You don’t cook your own meat?"

"I burn everything," Rina admitted without shame. "Kane’s always been our designated meat cooker. Even back in training, if we went out for Korean BBQ, everyone just handed him the tongs."

Kane arranged the first batch of hanwoo on the grill, the meat sizzling immediately. "It’s not that complicated. You just have to pay attention."

"Says the man who can judge doneness by smell alone," Rina countered, already loading her plate with banchan.

Cyrus watched Kane work with quiet fascination. "Another hidden talent."

"Hardly hidden." Kane flipped the meat with quick, confident movements.

The rich aroma of searing beef filled their booth, momentarily drowning out the K-pop soundtrack.

Kane plated the first perfectly cooked pieces, the exterior caramelized while the center remained tender pink.

"See?" Rina gestured with her chopsticks. "Magic."

Kane watched Rina take her first bite, relief washing through him as her face lit up with genuine pleasure.

After everything she’d endured—the fragmentation, the pain, nearly dying on that medical table—seeing her enjoy something as simple as perfectly grilled beef felt like a small victory.

"Oh my god, Kane." Rina closed her eyes, savoring the tender meat. "This is incredible. How do you get it so perfectly medium-rare every time?"

"Trade secret," Kane replied, though warmth spread through his chest at her appreciation.

He’d missed this—the easy camaraderie, Rina’s enthusiasm for good food, and the normalcy of sharing a meal without crisis looming overhead.

Kane selected a pristine lettuce leaf, spooning rice and banchan into the center before adding a perfectly cooked slice of hanwoo. He wrapped it carefully, creating a neat package, then held it out to Cyrus.

"Open," he instructed softly.

Cyrus raised an eyebrow but complied, accepting the lettuce wrap without protest.

Kane watched his expression shift as the flavors hit—the rich beef, the sharp kimchi, and the nutty sesame oil.

"Adequate," Cyrus murmured, though his eyes betrayed his enjoyment.

Isabelle observed their exchange with poorly concealed amusement.

"Adequate," Kane repeated with mock seriousness, continuing to flip the bulgogi. "From Cyrus, that’s practically a five-star review."

Isabelle’s lips twitched. "Indeed. I’ve heard him describe hundred-thousand-dollar wines as ’acceptable.’"

"Hey!" Rina protested around a mouthful of beef. "What does that make the rest of us mere mortals?"

"Tolerable," Cyrus replied without missing a beat, earning a kick under the table from Kane.

Rina choked on her lettuce wrap. "Wow. High praise."

Kane arranged the next batch of meat on the grill, the familiar rhythm of cooking helping him relax.

The sizzle and pop of fat hitting hot metal provided a comforting backdrop for conversation.

Isabelle set down her chopsticks, ice-blue eyes studying Kane and Cyrus with calculated curiosity.

"I’ve been wondering," she began, her voice carrying that precise tone Kane had learned to recognize as Isabelle cutting straight to the heart of matters.

"How did you two actually meet?"

Kane’s hand stilled over the grill.