

Four friends meet at one lunch table. 'Ready to eat?' Minjun grins, balancing soup and bibimbap. Ami sets down her neat bento. Bataa and Rafi arrive, smiling with full lunchboxes.

Ami opens tiny boxes of rice, fish, and colorful veggies. 'Itadakimasu,' she whispers, sitting very straight. Chopsticks click softly. She smiles at her tidy lunch and eats carefully, calm as a pond.

Minjun opens warm bibimbap, lined by panchan, and a small soup thermos. 'Let’s eat together!' he chatters. He mixes colors, crunches kimchi, and giggles. 'Try a bite?' he offers cheerfully.

Bataa unpacks steaming buuz and hearty meat, arranged carefully. 'I brought plenty,' he says, paws open. 'Please share.' He passes napkins, smiling. The dumplings smell cozy, like warm tents after snow.

Rafi clicks his lunchbox open to bright biryani, jeweled with carrots, raisins, and tender chicken. 'From Bangladesh!' he chirps proudly. Spices float like music. 'My family loves this.' His feathers fluff happily.

Ami covers her ears as chatter grows. 'Too noisy,' she murmurs. Rafi sees his friends scoot back from the strong aroma. 'Is my food wrong?' he asks. Bataa pauses, plate outstretched, unsure.

Minjun blinks, chopsticks hovering. 'Something feels off,' he says softly. 'Can we talk?' He sets down his bowl and looks at everyone. 'What matters most about your lunches at home?'

Ami folds her paws. 'At home, quiet eating shows respect,' she explains. 'I listen and pay attention.' She smiles shyly. 'I like gentle sounds, like tea pouring, or chopsticks tapping.'

Rafi nods, beak bright. 'At my house, biryani’s smell means celebration,' he says. 'Spices are love.' He takes a breath. 'When you move away, I feel sad, like rain inside.'

Bataa clears his throat. 'Sharing is kindness in my family,' he says. 'If you refuse, I worry I did wrong.' He gently lowers the plate. 'I only wanted everyone full and happy.'

Minjun smiles. 'In Korea, we talk and eat together,' he says. 'Let’s try.' 'First quiet bites for Ami,' he suggests, 'then soft chatting.' Sit near Rafi. Take Bataa’s offers if comfortable.

They follow the plan. 'Thank you,' Ami breathes, smiling. Rafi beams as friends sit close. 'Your biryani smells like sunshine,' Minjun says. Bataa shares buuz kindly. 'Different homes, one table,' they cheer.