Let's Fight
The certainty that a young man with no social standing to speak of would never refuse the handshake he himself had just offered.
It was the arrogant yet impeccably mannered behavior of the upper class.
Most people would have been cowed in this man's presence and simply moved however he wished.
But all I felt was sheer disbelief.
I remembered how they had treated that newborn infant—the one who had braved the bitter cold and cutting wind that day to reach the people who might have become his new family.
Contempt and anger surged up again, and before I knew it I was smiling as I clasped his hand without a moment's delay.
This handshake was not the flustered grip of someone swept along by silent pressure.
Let's fight.
I held his gaze for a beat, then spoke in a soft voice.
"Yes, hello. I hope I haven't interrupted your evening."
"No, not at all. Thank you for coming to introduce yourself."
He answered with a smile that looked even more like a mannequin's.
After the brief greeting we released each other's hands.
"I look forward to getting along. This is a cake I made."
"Ah, my wife was just craving something sweet—perfect timing. If you'd like, won't you come in for a cup of tea?"
Would I?
He took the cake and smiled as though everything truly had worked out splendidly. Was that sincerity or pretense? Either way, it was impressive.
And whichever it was, I had neither the reason nor the stomach to sit down and share tea with these people.
"I appreciate the invitation, but I only stepped out for a moment while the baby is asleep."
When I refused with a smile, his expression stiffened for an instant before the usual smile returned.
"Ah, I see. The child is..."
His face said he wanted to ask whether I still had that child with me. I added lightly, still smiling.
"Yes. A beautiful little one with blond hair and light brown eyes. His name is Luca."
"...Ah."
"Well then."
I gave a smiling nod to the man whose face had gone blank, then took the stairs instead of the elevator.
As I climbed the spiral staircase and he vanished from sight, my own expression hardened. Fury rose all the way to the crown of my head; I could feel heat flooding my face.
Even if I tried not to be angry, anger came anyway.
"Hah."
I took the stairs in one go and the hallway that was practically ours alone came into view.
"......"
Evening sunlight poured through the wide windows onto the marble floor, the iron wall decorations, and the bright front door—all of it still unfamiliar.
I turned the key in the door I had locked only briefly; a deep metallic sound rang out.
It carried a weight utterly different from the door of Unit 303, which had always sounded as if it had been hung merely for form's sake.
Only after I opened the heavy front door, stepped inside, and locked it carefully again did I lean against it and let out a long breath.
"......"
The beautiful living room, full of afternoon light, filled my eyes.
Unfamiliar.
Suddenly everything felt unfamiliar.
It made sense—we hadn't even been here a full day yet—but still...
I had no real conviction that this was my home, and the discomfort was hard to put into words.
I had been happy, telling myself this was my house, but the moment I saw that blond man it felt as though someone were saying the reality was otherwise.
Thoughts I had deliberately shoved outside my consciousness began to creep back in.
The question of whether I even deserved to live here.
The accusation that I might not even be able to cover next month's rent, so what the hell was I doing in a place like this.
This was a building for people like the man downstairs and his wife.
Look at their entire way of life, from head to toe.
The clothes they wore, the way they spoke, the perfectly appointed home I had glimpsed...
That lifestyle wasn't something you could suddenly imitate just because you lived in the same building.
This isn't your place, someone seemed to be telling me.
"......"
I tried to cool the hot flush on my face.
Just moments ago I had thought I was acting without being cowed because I was thinking of the child, yet now I was drowning in shame, inferiority, and the anger that followed—every negative emotion imaginable.
And the most decisive of all was anxiety.
I had been driven out even from the place where I had barely clung on, living as quiet as a mouse—so did I really think a place far beyond my means would be all right?
In the end I slid down against the front door and buried my face in both hands.
A familiar voice of reason scolded me.
You should have looked for somewhere like the old place. Why come somewhere you never even dared to dream of?
Whether they own it or rent it, anyone can see the people downstairs belong here...
They are people I can never resemble, a life I can never reach.
So why am I thrashing around like this, trying to force myself in among people who live well?
Just because I bought a few nice clothes and built a few pieces of furniture, did I think I was suddenly one of them?
The negative voice that had lived with me for so long seized its chance and kept stirring my heart into chaos.
"......"
I shot to my feet. I could not let myself sink into these feelings. I had lived that way for a long time, but I could not keep living that way forever.
It might have felt as though I had been shoved into it by accident, but the fact remained: I had found the courage to take one step away from that gray world, and I had to keep moving forward.
I would not look back. That was not where I needed to go.
I deliberately spoke aloud.
"I can do this."
I had come here thinking it would work out somehow, hadn't I?
The financial problems that had seemed impossible to handle with my own strength alone had been helped by kind people.
Bearing my own heart, though—that was something no one else could help with. That was entirely my share.
Even if it was strange, unpleasant, burdensome, and hard...
The baby had every right to be happy enough, and right now all he had was me. So I had to be happy.
"I can do this."
I can. I can. Let's start with what I can do, one step at a time.
It would be stranger if settling into a new place went perfectly smoothly. Something like this was honestly nothing.
When I quietly stood and looked at the baby still sleeping deeply, the turmoil in my chest eased a little.
Then I looked around the house again. It really was nice.
The living room still had no sofa, no bookshelf, no large furniture of any kind, yet the bright house full of warm sunlight felt cozy just as it was.
Yes—the house we had now was good.
The everyday life the baby and I would live here from now on would be happy.
This is our home.
Wherever the baby and I are is our home.
Don't doubt it.
Don't doubt the happiness we will enjoy from now on.
Once I sorted out my heart, the exhaustion of my body came flooding in.
The tension drained away all at once, and my body—which had barely slept properly since the day before—felt as if it were discharging at high speed.
The move, the uncomfortable encounter, the emotional upheaval... of course I was tired.
But when I checked the time, the sun was only just beginning to set.
It felt as though enormous things had happened, yet barely fifteen minutes had passed since I left the house earlier.
I was too exhausted and had no idea what to do, so I decided to wash first.
And in the bathroom I found myself flustered again.
Before moving in I had simply thought a bathroom was a bathroom and hadn't looked closely.
Separate from the showerhead, there was a nozzle fixed beside the bathtub that sprayed water.
Was the water meant to shoot out from the wall? I stared at it for a long while, then tried it—and steam came pouring out.
"Whoa..."
So this kind of thing was possible even at home...
Watching the thick steam rise, I pressed my back against it and my eyes closed of their own accord from how good it felt.
The hot steam seemed to melt both my stiffened body and my heart.
Was this what it felt like to shower in those luxury hotels you only saw on the internet?
Gazing at the dazzling lights through the billowing vapor, I thought every random thought imaginable.
After a shower that felt as if it had washed my soul clean, I spread a thick winter blanket on the carefully wiped floor in one corner of the living room.
It was time to end the long day. Before lying down I checked on the child one last time, soundly asleep in his own bed.
"You must have been tired too."
Even when I spoke to the baby in a lowered voice, Luca slept on, mouth open, breathing soft and even.
I brushed a finger once across his soft cheek, then lay down on my back.
"Ahhhggh..."
A strange sound escaped me without meaning to.
Only after I stretched my whole body out with a series of pops and cracks from my joints did I finally feel my body go limp and comfortable.
Who cares if it's evening. Let's just sleep like this. The moment I stopped fighting my drooping eyelids and hugged the blanket close—
"Eungh...!"
"Yes, my little one. Aigoo."
I forced my limp body up again and went to Luca.
"Abubu...!"
"Yes, yes, that's right."
Smiling, I lifted the adorable child into my arms. It wasn't milk time yet, and the diaper was clean. He had simply woken up.
"Hmm."
After a moment's thought I pulled out the mattress Luca had been lying on, set it on top of my blanket, and laid the baby there. Then I collapsed down beside him and pointed at the ceiling.
"Luca, look up there. Our house has a pretty ceiling too, right?"
"Bu..."
It was old-fashioned, but the ivory molding that stretched out in a checkered pattern from the living-room light was beautiful.
"Actually that kind of thing isn't old-fashioned—it's classic, Luca..."
"Ababa...!"
I hadn't paid any attention to the ceiling before, but looking at it now I was freshly struck by how remarkable a craftsman's touch could be.
Neither too much nor too little. Just gazing blankly at it made you feel good.
For a while I looked up at the ceiling and chattered away at the baby. My words came out a little slurred, as if I were slightly drunk.
The ceiling decorations catching the sunset light that was just beginning to slip away looked even prettier and more colorful.
"...It's pretty, right, Luca? Should we sleep in the living room every day...?"
"Aba..."
"...Even if you just lie there staring at the ceiling I don't think you'd get bored... and also..."
And just like that, I fell sound asleep.