Mingyu didn’t stop him. Whenever one of them ate at the other’s place, the guest washed the dishes. It was one of the unwritten rules that had developed over four years of living across from each other. Watching Iho closely, Mingyu followed him into the kitchen. Then he quietly moved the large pot of braised chicken onto the induction cooktop so it wouldn’t end up with the dirty dishes. Pulling on rubber gloves, Iho asked why. “What’s that for?” “There’s some left. I’ll finish it tomorrow.”