It was a truth universally acknowledged that dorm food was not a reason to get out of bed early.
Jin-woo had sampled the cafeteria's offerings twice and concluded: the chicken was suspiciously chewy, the rice was perpetually sticky in the wrong way, and the soup tasted like a mix of mystery and regret.
Yuna, on the other hand, took her cafeteria trips seriously—almost like a food critic on a mission.
One afternoon, Jin-woo sat with a half-eaten tray of noodles and looked across at Yuna's plate piled with neatly arranged side dishes.
"How do you eat this stuff every day?"
She smiled. "I've learned to survive."
He snorted. "There has to be a better way."
Just then, a campus announcement blared over the speakers:
"Attention students: The cafeteria will be closed tomorrow for renovations."
Jin-woo's eyes widened.
"No cafeteria means no lunch. No lunch means—"
"—hangry students," Yuna finished.
Inspired (or perhaps desperate), Jin-woo hatched a plan.
"If the cafeteria is closed, then we become the cafeteria!"
Yuna raised an eyebrow. "That sounds like a recipe for disaster."
"Or a recipe for ramen."
He pulled out a notebook labeled "Cafeteria Coup: Phase 1."
Step one: Find a location.
They scoped out the common lounge, the dorm lobby, and the courtyard before settling on the lobby.
Step two: Gather ingredients.
Jin-woo raided the vending machines, Yuna scavenged leftovers from the cafeteria's closing sale, and together they pooled whatever snacks and instant noodles they could find.
Step three: Recruit staff.
Jin-woo drafted a flyer: "Volunteer Cafeteria Workers Wanted! Free Food and Glory!"
Yuna rolled her eyes but helped post it around the dorm.
By noon the next day, a small crowd had gathered.
Jin-woo donned an apron that read "Chef Jin," and Yuna handed out plastic gloves.
The makeshift cafeteria was a chaotic symphony of sizzling pans, spilled sauces, and questionable hygiene.
Students lined up for Jin-woo's signature "Instant Ramen Deluxe" and Yuna's expertly assembled kimbap rolls.
One freshman whispered, "Is this actually better than the cafeteria?"
Jin-woo winked. "Of course. It's homemade… kind of."
Midway through service, disaster struck.
The power went out.
The fans stopped spinning, the lights flickered, and the electric rice cooker hissed one last time before falling silent.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Without missing a beat, Jin-woo grabbed a portable gas stove from the storage closet.
"Problem solved!"
He lit it with flair, but the flame caught Yuna's sleeve.
"Jin-woo!"
She jumped back, extinguishing the small fire with a kitchen towel.
"Maybe don't do that."
Jin-woo grinned sheepishly.
Despite the chaos, the impromptu cafeteria was a hit.
Students laughed, shared food, and even pitched in to help clean up.
By evening, the lobby looked like a battlefield of empty bowls and sauce stains.
Yuna looked at Jin-woo, shaking her head with a smile.
"You really can turn anything into an adventure."
Jin-woo bowed dramatically.
"All in a day's work for the Ramen Emperor."
That night, as they collapsed into their beds, Jin-woo asked, "Think the real cafeteria will ever recover from this coup?"
Yuna smiled softly.
"Maybe. But the best meals are the ones we share."