It had already been a month since that night.
Ga-eun was slowly stirring a steaming soup inside the kitchen of an old restaurant that had been closed for a long time. Since she had left her job, that place had become her refuge, a place to practice and think… although lately not even that managed to give her comfort.

She tried a spoonful and sighed. It was fine, but she didn’t feel anything, it was just another soup cooked by her.
She served the dish in silence and, without thinking too much, peeked out through the front door and left the bowl on the floor, leaving it to a stray dog she had nicknamed “Scraps.”

“At least you won’t waste it…” she murmured, watching as the animal wagged its tail before devouring the food.

While she was gathering the utensils, the door opened with a soft creak. It was her cousin.
He was holding a folder in his hand and had a restless look in his eyes.

“Ga-eun noona…” he greeted her respectfully.

She looked at him tiredly, wiping her hands on the apron.

“Did you come as my cousin… or as a bank employee?”

He swallowed hard and looked down.
“As a bank employee. I brought this month’s rent receipt. I paid it from your account, as always.”

Ga-eun nodded as she walked toward him.

“Thanks,” she said while taking the receipt and patting him on the shoulder.

“Please, stop treating me like a kid.”

“I’ll do it when you stop pouting like one, Seung-ie.”

“It’s Seung-hyun… ahhg… noona… if you keep this up, you’ll run out of savings,” he said with a mix of concern and fear. “You should leave this place. It’s not even a functioning restaurant, it’s just… a ruined place.”

“Don’t call it that,” she replied calmly. “It’s my cooking studio.”

Her cousin sighed, resigned.

“I just… owe you a lot, noona. What you did for mom and me, when we barely had anything to eat… I’ll never forget it. But I don’t want to see you sink because of this. Why did you leave your job just to come cook here? In a few years you might have ended up as head chef at the Haneul.”

Ga-eun looked at him silently for a few seconds.
“Does your job make you happy?” she suddenly asked.

He hesitated.
“It pays the bills.”

“A month ago, when I cooked that night... and gave that family the food, I wasn’t thinking about paying the bills. I felt something beyond that... It was nostalgic.” Her voice became softer. “And I won’t be able to truly cook again until I understand what it was that I felt back then.”

The cousin didn’t answer. He nodded with a bit of sadness and left, leaving her alone with the echo of her thoughts.

After that, Ga-eun went back to the kitchen where she began to practice with the wok when the door sounded again, someone was knocking.

No one came in; only an envelope slid under the door. She turned off the fire and bent down to take it. She looked outside but there was no one, so she went back in.

The envelope had a broken and worn red seal. When she opened it, she found a note:

“From an old friend, so that your wishes may come true.”

Inside, a jewel fell to the floor: an old ring, made of gold and rusted metal, decorated with a slightly scratched blue gem. Ga-eun took it and looked at it carefully, it was quite old and didn’t seem to have much value.

It must be some kind of joke, she thought. The kind of joke I don’t like… but at least I could sell it if I manage to clean it a little.
So she rubbed it with her shirt to remove the dirt. Then, the air changed.

A cold breeze ran through the restaurant, making the ceiling lights tremble. The floor shook slightly, and a thin golden mist began to spread from the ring, sliding between her feet, covering the tiles and the tables.

“What…?” she whispered.

The mist grew, thick as a sea of gold, and a voice, powerful and resonant, impossible to place—spoke from everywhere and nowhere.

“Hello Kim Ga-eun, it’s a real pleasure to see each other in person.”

Ga-eun stepped back until she hit the wall. The ring in her hand burned with a bluish glow, and little by little the mist began to merge until it formed the shape of a young man, his hair tied back in a ponytail and covered with old silver and golden fabrics.

His eyes, glowing like burning coals, focused on her.
When he spoke again, his voice became softer, almost teasing:

“I am a Djinn, spirit of the ring, guardian of wishes, all-powerful genie, your most faithful servant,” he added with a bow. “At least until I grant you your three wishes.”

Ga-eun looked at him without understanding what that stranger was talking about.
“Is this... a hidden camera prank?”

The Djinn tilted his head, amused by her reaction. With a simple snap, the cutlery began to float around him, spinning in the air with hypnotic grace. The kitchen fire danced to his gesture, forming shapes in the air.

“Your mistrust… is curiously charming,” he commented with a half-smile, letting the utensils fall gently on the counter. “It gives me the luxury of showing off my charms.
I will repeat it only once. I cannot send anyone to the future. I cannot bring the dead back to life and I cannot alter the will of others.
Everything else…” his eyes gleamed. “It is my responsibility to make it real.”

Ga-eun swallowed; that being had managed to make her nervous. She remained silent. Only the ring kept glowing, beating like a living heart in her hand.

“So… any unfulfilled childhood wish?” the genie asked, with a touch of sarcasm.

Ga-eun composed herself again.

“Do I have to ask for them immediately?”

“Not necessarily, it’s just that most people already have it quite clear with the first wish.”

Ga-eun threw a broom at the Djinn who barely managed to catch it in surprise.

“Do you have a name, Djinn?”

The spirit looked at her with a bit of arrogance and pride.

“You can call me Zafir.”

“Good, Zafir.” Ga-eun left the broom in front of him. “Until I figure out what to wish for, clean your mess.”

The Djinn looked at the mess he had caused with his little demonstration and nervously began to clean and pick everything up.

Night came, and both, Ga-eun and Zafir, sat at the counter after finishing cleaning.

“Money?”

“For now, it’s not a problem, besides, it would be difficult to explain where it came from.”

“Maybe finding your soulmate?”

“That would be more like a K-drama.”

“You are undoubtedly very demanding.”

They had spent quite a bit of time thinking of a wish, and despite Ga-eun’s insistence about who had sent the ring, the genie only replied that he was forbidden to tell her about his previous owners unless she discovered something on her own. He called it “Djinn–Client Confidentiality.”

“I give up, just think of something you truly long for in your heart and tell me, so we can at least move on from the first wish.”

Ga-eun took out another cigarette, lit it while playing with the ring in her fingers. That was when she began wandering through her memories, searching for something she could really wish for.
Wish. That was the word that took her mind back to that night, when she quit her job. She remembered again that warm feeling in her chest after seeing that family enjoy her food. She still didn’t understand what had made that moment so special, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it, trying to figure it out. Then, the words of gratitude from the father and his children echoed again, thanking her and wishing that she would find happiness.

“Yes… that would be a good wish,” she murmured. “To find happiness.”

The Djinn showed a playful smile while nodding and clapping loudly as he rolled up his sleeves.

“As you wish, my lady.”

Again the floor of the place began to shake, only this time harder. The lights flickered and the fire from the candles and the oven went out completely. Ga-eun began to complain, trying to stop the genie, but he didn’t seem to hear her. The jars with ingredients broke as they fell from the shelves.
The floor beneath her seemed to disappear for a second, a great golden light surrounded them, and for an instant, the smell of fried rice was the last thing Ga-eun recognized from the world around her.

Then, darkness, accompanied by the distant sound of wind over the sand.