MFLA 08

April 30, 2025 – Wednesday

3:03 PM

[Tarim-ah. How much is house share per month?]

Tarim replied immediately.

3:03 PM

[000 thousand won. Why? Is someone looking to move inㅋㅋㅋ?]

She only realized after pressing send that her fingers had panicked and created a ridiculous typo.

“Agh, I messed it up.”

Before she could even dwell on it, two replies came in quick succession.

3:04 PM

[Yeah]
[Is there a room available?]

3:05 PM

[Of course. There is. When do they want to come?]

This time, she carefully typed each word to avoid any more typos. It was someone Moo-ru knew, so even if a lunatic showed up, she figured she’d treat them well—feed them, give them a place to sleep.

3:05 PM

[Today]
[This evening]

3:05 PM

[Oh, must be urgent.]
[The room is clean, so it’s fine.]

3:06 PM

[Thank you]

3:06 PM

[I should be the one thanking you]
[What time will they arrive?]

3:08 PM

[Around… 8 PM]

3:08 PM

[Okay, I’ll get things ready]
[But…]
[Are they your friend?]

Tarim stood frozen in the middle of the room, staring at her phone. The read receipt on her question about the new tenant quickly disappeared. One minute. Two. Three. No response. Anxiety began to build—had she made things awkward by asking? After over five minutes of silence, she just sent the house address and turned off her phone. Moo-ru never replied.

That evening’s dinner: rice balls.

The dysfunctional food situation at Hwaran’s house had been going on for about a month. No matter how much they coaxed or threatened, the Queen of Bongnim-dong was completely out of it. Still, today she made rice.

Lee Kyum stuffed his face with rice balls filled with stir-fried anchovies. The bruise on his cheekbone from an unfortunate incident 12 days ago had now turned yellow.

“Is this person moving to Junsan for work? Sounds like a last-minute decision.”

His yellowish eyelid fluttered as he dug into the second rice ball. Each one had a random filling: stir-fried kimchi. The first had been seaweed stems.

“Mm….”

Even with a new housemate moving in, Tarim didn’t seem thrilled.

“Hope they have a nice personality.”

Said the yellow-cheeked roommate cheerfully.

“Same.”

Agreed the yellow-eyed one.

It was a bit rich, coming from the two who’d beaten each other blue just a while ago.

Tarim shook her head.

“…Mmm….”
“Aren’t you eating? Did you snack while making them?”
“…Mmm….”
“Stingy bastard. No wonder the seaweed stem one felt dry.”
“Doesn’t look like you’re full. Did you lose your country or something?”
“Yeah…”
“Oh right… We accidentally lost national sovereignty…”
“…Yeah…”

BANG!

Hosik slammed the table.

Whoa—Lee Kyum jumped so hard he almost spit anchovies. Tarim didn’t even flinch.

“How long are you gonna be like this?!”
“It’s not like I didn’t make food…”

Finally, Tarim collapsed face-first onto the table.

At that moment—

DING-DONG-DING-DONG-DING!!!!!!

The doorbell rang.

All three of them clutched their chests in shock.

“Someone change that goddamn bell already!!!”

The house, built over 60 years ago, still had its original doorbell—a traditional jangling sound that could wake Sleeping Beauty.

While Hosik raged, Tarim mumbled as she headed to the door.

“It still works fine, so why change it…? It’s not even 6:30 yet. They’re early.”

Yes, just a moment!

In a Western-style house this old, with a wide living room, you had to shout to be heard.

Lee Kyum and Hosik quickly wiped their mouths with tissues—wanted to look presentable for the new housemate.

Tarim unlatched the wooden door and swung it open, greeting with a loud, cheerful voice—

“Welcome. You’re early—”

—and froze.

Standing beside a large suitcase, the new housemate was…

“…Sorry. I arrived earlier than expected…”

Ju Moo-ru.

Tarim stood like a giant door herself, frozen in place, tongue pressed behind her upper teeth mid-word. Moo-ru, awkwardly apologizing, wasn’t even looking at Tarim but somewhere off into space.

Moo-ru-ya.

Something deep inside Tarim called her name. Her body—massive, door-like—became stiff as an actual door.

“Ah, uh, Mu, Moo… Here, why, how….”

She was probably trying to say, “Wow, Moo-ru, you’re the new tenant? How did this happen?”

Both broken, they stood at the entrance, mumbling incoherently. In their minds, they were replaying the same scene: that night at Moo-ru’s house.

“The, earlier, reply… sorry…”
(Sorry for not replying earlier. I didn’t know how to explain… suddenly felt bad.)

“Seoul… no, your stuff…”
(What about your house in Seoul? Wait, never mind—let me take your bag. It must be heavy.)

“Uh, yeah? Okay…”
(Thanks. Please take it.)

Moo-ru handed over the suitcase handle without looking—an awkward no-look pass. Tarim took it—creakily.

Two voices called out from deeper inside the house, wondering why they weren’t coming in. Soon, two men entered the hallway. Lee Kyum called out brightly:

“Moo-ru! Long time no see! You remember me, right?!!”

He rushed over. Moo-ru leaned sideways to smile past Tarim.

“Uh… yes.”

She hadn’t known one of Tarim’s housemates recognized her. She tried hard not to look flustered.

“Hey, why so formal! We went to elementary school together. What brings you here! Come in, come in!”

Ah—they were classmates. That gave her some relief. Lee Kyum nudged Tarim aside.

“So crowded! What are you doing? Let’s move that bag and set the table!”

Suddenly acting like a mother-in-law, he led Moo-ru inside without hesitation.

“You’re the one moving in? That’s great.”
“Thank you…”

Their voices grew distant as Tarim stood there like a haunted mannequin. She eventually turned her body inside, stiffly. Outside, the sky was still bathed in twilight.

It couldn’t be more awkward if it tried.

Lee Kyum and Hosik were smiling desperately. Four people were seated around the living room sofa table. Two in stranger-mode. The other two trying too hard—like a blind date gone wrong.

“My name’s Kwon Hosik.”
“You’re a detective, right?”

He cracked a pointless joke. Then they both laughed way too hard, slapping each other.

They had arranged the seats so the two shy ones—Tarim and Moo-ru—sat together. But both sat stiff as new recruits, knees at 90 degrees, hands on thighs.

“Try this. Tarim made the scorched-rice tea herself.”

Hosik scraped up all the fake sweetness he could muster and pushed the bowl toward her.

If he treated his girlfriend like this, maybe they wouldn’t have broken up. Moo-ru took the bowl with both hands and sipped.

“It’s delicious.”

She smiled brightly. Kyum and Hosik felt slightly relieved. Only slightly.

Lee Kyum chimed in quickly.

“Isn’t it great? She dries the scorched rice and boils it herself! Tarim’s cooking—seriously, if you eat just one meal, you’ll forget your mom’s food!”

Moo-ru tried to go along with the mood—but her reply went totally off-track.

“Ah… I don’t live with my mom, so I don’t know what mom’s food tastes like…”

Everyone around the table went silent. Moo-ru wanted to disown the version of herself from five seconds ago.

“Oi, Lee Kyum…”

Tarim quietly scolded him. Thanks to that, Moo-ru now knew the loud one’s name. She wanted to fix the mood fast.

“I lived with my dad in Gangneung. My parents are divorced.”

But—

“My mom’s here in Junsan, but we haven’t been in touch since I left.”

…She gained +1 in life experience. The experience of don’t talk too much when you’re nervous. Tarim’s face was still stiff. Moo-ru thought it was because she had shown up unannounced and made Tarim uncomfortable.

“I thought I’d get here by 8, but a friend dropped me off at Dongseoul Terminal, so I ended up arriving early. I wanted to message you, but I figured you were having dinner…”

She had been DMing with Sola, who heard Moo-ru was packing for a few months in the countryside and offered her a ride since she was in Seoul for work. It was only their second time meeting in person despite being longtime friends, so it was both a happy and apologetic reunion.

“Tarim… I’m sorry for coming without properly discussing it. I can go back to Seoul. It’s okay.”