POV (Yoon-jae)

The school library is a place of logic. The books are categorized by numbers, the chairs are tucked in perfectly, and the air is filtered and thin. I sat there for an hour after class, staring at my math homework.

$15x + 30 = 90$

The answer was 4. It was easy. Everything in my life had an answer that could be calculated. But as I looked at the numbers, I kept thinking about the blue mug. I kept thinking about how Do-hyun didn't ask me for my grades. He just asked me if I was hungry.

I looked at the clock. Mr. Kang would be at the gate in twenty minutes.

My heart started to thumping against my ribs. In my house, we don’t do things "without permission." Permission is the breath of the Seo family. But the memory of the bakery was like a small fire in a dark room. I wanted to see it again. Just for a second.

I stood up, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and walked past the librarian.

Instead of going to the front gate where the black cars wait, I went to the side exit near the gym. My palms were sweaty. I felt like a thief, even though I wasn't stealing anything. I was just taking ten minutes for myself.

I ran. I didn’t know I could run that fast. The cold air bit at my lungs, but the smell of the bakery started to find me again. It was like a string pulling me through the streets.

When I reached the wooden door, I was out of breath. The bell chimed.

Do-hyun was standing behind the counter, weighing flour on a scale. He looked up, and his whole face changed. It wasn't the polite nod of a teacher or the cold look of my father. He looked... relieved.

"Yoon-jae! You're back," he said.

"I... I can't stay," I panted, clutching my bag. "I just... I wanted to see if the mug was still there."

Do-hyun smiled and reached under the counter. He pulled out a cookie. It was misshapen, one side a bit darker than the other.

"I had a bit of a disaster with the oven," he said, pushing the cookie toward me. "It’s a failed one. It wouldn't be right to sell it. Would you help me get rid of it?"

I knew it wasn't a failure. It was a gift wrapped in a polite excuse so I wouldn't feel bad taking it. I took a bite. It was warm, filled with chocolate chips that melted on my tongue. It was the best thing I had ever tasted because it wasn't "acceptable." It was "failed," and it was perfect.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Anytime, explorer," Do-hyun said.

I looked at the clock on his wall. I had five minutes left. I turned to leave, but as I did, I leaned against the counter to adjust my bag. A small puff of flour rose into the air and settled on my sleeve. I didn't notice it. I was too busy trying to memorize the way the light looked in the shop.

I ran back to the school, sliding into the back of the car just as Mr. Kang checked his watch.

"You're flushed, Young Master," Mr. Kang said, looking at me in the mirror.

"Just ran from the library," I said, my heart still racing.

I had lied. I had disobeyed. I had chocolate on my breath and flour on my sleeve. For the first time in my life, I had done something without permission. And as we drove toward the cold house, I didn't feel guilty. I felt alive.