Why Are You Here?
“Yes, that goes in this room. No, leave that one here—ah, and that…”
Unpacking in the tiny old apartment hadn’t taken long, but getting everything into the new place finished even faster. Back in the old unit the house had felt ready to burst at the seams, yet once I brought only the furniture I’d made myself and discarded the rest, it seemed like an entire room’s worth of pieces could fit with space to spare.
Just as the quick move wound down, the real-estate agent arrived to settle the remaining balance, and the new appliances began showing up one after another. A state-of-the-art refrigerator, air conditioner, dishwasher, washer and dryer. A gas oven range… even an espresso machine.
“The espresso machine is a housewarming gift from the landlord—he asked me to pass it along. You’re free to take it with you if you ever move out.”
The agent said this while tidying the paperwork and preparing to leave. One glance told me the machine was a high-end model.
“Your landlord must be a generous soul. Please make sure to thank him for me.”
I forced a smile to hide how flustered I felt, and the agent smiled back.
“Yes, he’s quite well-off and a good person. Ah, and also…”
He pulled a small, elegant shopping bag from his briefcase and handed it over.
“This is a modest housewarming gift from our agency. Congratulations on the move.”
After the movers, the appliance installers, and the real-estate agent had all gone, Greg made ridiculous faces to entertain Luca while I quickly put together crab-salad sandwiches and brewed coffee. Thanks to the Manito App, I was able to serve Greg a brunch that looked and tasted like it had come from a specialty sandwich shop.
“All done. Dig in—you must be starving.”
“Whoa, look at that presentation. Then I’ll gratefully dig in.”
Greg’s face lit up at the sight of the food. After one bite of the sandwich he looked almost ready to tear up with emotion.
“Hey, hey—stop thinking about anything else and let’s open a restaurant. From where I’m standing, you could be the next Gordon Ramsay.”
“I’ll take the compliment. Here—coffee.”
“No, I’m not just saying it.”
Despite Greg’s passionate pitch, my attention had already drifted elsewhere. Whether it was the food or the house, the everyday cup I’d always used without a second thought suddenly looked rather cheap.
…Maybe I should try my hand at pottery while I’m at it?
When I showed no interest in the restaurant idea, Greg changed the subject.
“That old place felt packed, but this one’s definitely roomier. So how are you sleeping tonight?”
We’d left the sofa bed and dining table behind when we moved. The built-in island table covered the dining situation, but without the sofa bed I’d have no choice but to sleep on the floor even if the baby used his crib.
“I’ll just throw down a blanket and manage. I ordered a bed, but it won’t arrive for a few days.”
More precisely, I’d ordered a mattress; the bed frame would have to be built once the lumber arrived.
We finished a pleasant meal chatting about this and that, then Greg stood to leave.
“I’m a little worried about what’s ahead, but I’m sure you’ll handle it just fine. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.”
I gave a small smile at the ridiculous claim and handed him the little shopping bag the agent had given me earlier.
“Looks like perfume—take it.”
Greg nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Dude, this brand is insanely expensive!”
“Lucky you recognized it. You wear it—spray some on when you see Rachel.”
I laughed and pushed the bag toward him again until he reluctantly accepted and opened it.
“Oh, this is a new release… and there’s a gift card too. Man, rich people really give generous presents.”
“Tell me about it. I’m a bit worried now. I was planning to bring something when I greet the neighbors, but ordinary stuff won’t cut it… What do people usually do for neighbors? Flowers?”
I sighed. Having the luggage delivered didn’t mean the move was over. Money was already tight enough; taking even one step into high society made everything feel like it cost a fortune.
Only three households lived in the building, including us. Of course I’d intended to stop by with a modest gift after settling in—but receiving an espresso machine and perfume as if they were nothing suddenly made the wealth of the neighborhood feel very real.
Greg eased my fretting.
“Why not just bake something like that cake you served Maria and me last time? Even Maria said it tasted like something from a hotel.”
“…Oh? You think that’ll be enough?”
“Dude, you have no idea how expensive hotel cakes are. You can make them yourself, so you don’t get it, but regular people go out of their way to buy them. Plus saying you baked it yourself makes it look thoughtful, right?”
After Greg left, I searched for a cake I could make quickly with the ingredients on hand and settled on an opera cake. I’d never even tasted one, so I was a little nervous, but trusting the Manito App I confidently followed the recipe and started baking.
“Ah-boo-boo…!”
“Yeah, thanks, Luca.”
Luca watched me bustling around and babbled; it felt so much like cheering that I smiled.
The brand-new oven was both pretty and high-performing. There was a real thrill in using a new appliance for the first time. The aroma of espresso pulled from the machine the landlord had gifted would lift the opera cake’s flavor even higher.
Even in this unfamiliar place where half the boxes were still unopened, my hands baked the cake as if they’d done it a hundred times, and the tension in my shoulders gradually eased.
While the cake cooled for about an hour before the chocolate glaze, I changed into clean new clothes and scooped Luca into my arms. We took a slow lap around the house.
“Luca, our place has a terrace too. Cool, right?”
“Ehhh…”
“When spring comes, want to practice walking over there?”
“Boo…!”
I pressed a kiss to the forehead of the little boy who was trying so hard to say something, patted his back, and settled him down to sleep.
The living room was still nearly empty, yet the sunlight flooding in kept it from feeling barren.
“Nice, right, Luca?”
“Ung…”
Just thinking about filling this space exactly the way I wanted made my mood lift even higher. The time I would spend here with my baby, the things I would slowly build—all of it felt like it would go smoothly.
Good. So good.
Six in the evening.
After confirming the baby was sound asleep, I packed the two cakes into boxes and hurried up to the second floor.
The first unit belonged to a pair of middle-aged sisters with kind faces—Rose and Lily. Their names were as lovely as they were. When I offered the cake and asked them to look after us from now on, they seemed genuinely delighted. Despite the sudden visit they invited me to tea, but I excused myself, saying the baby was only napping briefly, and promised a rain check.
The door closed and I headed straight for the next unit. I’d been a little nervous visiting the first house, but their warm welcome had given me a boost of confidence. I guess people with means really are kinder, I thought as I pressed the second doorbell.
The door opened, and a pair of blue eyes met mine.
“Hello—”
I was going to say I was the new neighbor who’d just moved in upstairs, that I’d come to introduce myself, that I hoped we’d get along… the exact same lines I’d used next door.
And the person who opened the door had probably been preparing the matching neighborly greeting, expecting a new resident.
But the moment our eyes locked, both the man in front of me and I froze solid.
A little presumptuous, don’t you think? You’re only temporary guardians receiving payment.
That’s enough. Unfortunately, this child and our family simply aren’t a good fit.
What on earth are you doing here?
Blink. Blink. Blink.
It took only a few blinks for our eyes to meet, for the old memory to surface, and for the present moment to snap into focus.
Recognizing the emotion that surged once the situation was clear, letting that emotion show on our faces, reading each other’s expressions, and deciding the next move—all of it happened in an instant.
In other words, the second I saw him my face hardened, and the second he saw my hardened face he smiled.
As if proposing we pretend the past had never happened, he greeted me like a complete stranger.
“Hello. Are you the new neighbor who moved into the third floor today?”
He smiled easily and offered his hand for a shake.
“….”
He looked about five years older than me—early to mid-thirties, maybe. Even though it was a weekend evening when anyone would have the right to relax at home, his blond hair was slicked back with pomade without a single strand out of place.
The shirt and tie under his sweater were pressed and knotted to perfection. The clean-cut trousers of excellent fabric were clearly custom-made. And the expensive shoes that caught the light just so, the understated yet unmistakably high-end watch on his wrist…
The hand he extended while dressed like that was a silent gesture: let’s forget the brief, uncomfortable encounter from the past, because from now on we’ll be neighbors who see each other often and for a long time, so let’s keep things civil.
The eyes that looked at me with quiet pressure carried the innate confidence of someone born into the upper class. And the faint white crow’s-feet at the corners of his eyes as he smiled that practiced, leisurely smile held absolute certainty—certainty that this Asian mixed-race young man who had shown up in a cardigan and sneakers, clearly younger than him, would do as he said.