Yuna was out when it happened.
She left early to meet with someone about house repairs—tiles or pipes or something. She didn't ask if I'd be home. She just said, "There's food in the fridge," then left the house.
The house felt unusually quiet without her.
No shuffling. No soft humming behind closed doors. No bowls left on the table with handwritten notes beside them.
And then the doorbell rang.
Ji-won stood on the porch.
Brown hair in a ponytail, gym outfit, sunglasses pushed up on her head, a half-smile already forming like she'd caught me off-guard on purpose.
"Yuna around?"
"She went out," I said.
Her smile didn't fade. "She didn't tell me. Typical."
She held up a shopping bag. "I brought side dishes. Was going to guilt her into feeding me."
I nodded, unsure if I should invite her in.
She answered that herself, stepping through the door and slipping her shoes off without missing a beat.
In the kitchen, she placed the bag on the counter and peeked inside the fridge.
"She still doesn't eat the stuff she makes," Ji-won said, shaking her head. "That woman lives on tea and gossip."
She looked over her shoulder at me.
"You eating well?"
"I'm not starving."
"Not what I asked."
I shrugged.
She pulled out two small containers from her bag and slid them toward me. "Try that one later. Tofu with spicy radish. Good for your... stamina."
Her smile widened when she saw my expression shift.
"I'm kidding," she added, but didn't sound like she meant it.
We sat at the table.
She poured herself water from the pitcher like it was her house. Elbow on the table, her body leaning forward just enough for me to notice the curve of her chest under a thin, fitted top.
She caught me looking.
Didn't flinch.
"Relax," she said. "You act like you're still twelve."
"I don't usually have people drop by."
"I'm not people," she said. "I'm Ji-won."
She said it like it explained everything.
Maybe it did.
"You always seem... stiff," she said after a few minutes.
"I don't mean that in a bad way. Just that you don't know what to do around women like us."
"What does that mean?"
"Women who aren't here to babysit you."
I looked at her, but she held the stare easily.
"Yuna's been walking around you like you're glass," Ji-won continued. "She won't admit it, but she's been starving for attention. You're like a heat lamp to her."
"She hasn't—"
"She doesn't need to. We see it."
That caught me.
"We?"
She smiled, softer now.
"The girls, The ones you awkwardly bow to and avoid eye contact with."
"I'm not—"
"You don't have to defend yourself. You're not doing anything wrong."
Then she added, "Yet."
The air shifted just slightly after that.
She stood up from the table and walked to the living room, gesturing for me to follow without saying anything.
I did.
She sat on the couch and patted the seat next to her.
Déjà vu.
I hesitated. She raised an eyebrow.
"You're really going to stand there after I brought food?"
I sat.
We sat at the table.
She poured herself water, the veins in her forearm faintly visible as she gripped the pitcher. Her tank top shifted slightly as she moved—tight, like most of what she wore. Black with a gray sports bra barely visible beneath.
Not the kind of outfit you wore just to drop off food.
"You just come from the gym?" I asked.
She raised an eyebrow. "What gave it away?"
"You look... ready to do lunges at any second."
She smirked. "I finished about an hour ago. Glutes and legs. Killer set. You'd last maybe ten minutes in there."
"Probably less."
"I figured. But hey—stamina can be trained."
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm.
"You do any workouts?"
"I jog sometimes."
"Mm." She looked me over. "Cute answer. Let me guess. In the mornings when no one can see you?"
"I like it quiet."
She smiled wider. "I bet you do."
She didn't blink much when she looked at me. Just long, slow stares like she was trying to memorize something. Or measure it.
A beat passed.
Then she said, "You always look like you're waiting for something."
"What do you mean?"
"Like you expect someone to interrupt."
She tilted her head. "Yuna has that effect on people. Makes you feel like you're in her house, under her rules."
"Technically, I am."
Ji-won hummed, thoughtful.
"But if you're going to live here, really live here, you're going to need to loosen up."
Her tone was easy, but the look in her eye was deliberate.
"I'm fine."
She gave a slow nod, then stood up from the table. Walked over to the fridge like it was her own kitchen. Bent slightly to peek inside.
She wasn't wearing anything showy—just leggings and a tied-up gym jacket—but everything clung tight. Like she moved with constant awareness of her body.
"You don't eat enough protein," she said. "Yuna feeds you like you're made of glass."
She grabbed a bottle of water and turned.
"You'll shrivel if you keep that up."
"I didn't realize you were this invested in my health."
She leaned back against the counter.
"I'm invested in potential."
That made me pause.
"In what sense?"
"In the sense that you're not just Yuna's little step-son anymore." Her voice softened, but didn't lose any of its weight. "You're a man in this house. That means eyes are on you, whether you know it or not."
"Yuna wouldn't like—"
"Yuna isn't here," she said, cutting me off gently. "And even if she were... she knows how we are."
"We?"
"The circle," she said. "The women you avoid eye contact with. You think it's all light gossip and tea parties?"
She smiled.
"Sweet. But you'll learn."
She moved back to the couch and flopped onto it, stretching out across one side. Then she looked at me like it was obvious I should join her.
I hesitated.
She smirked. "Don't act scared. I told you—we don't bite."
I sat down.
There was just enough space between us to pretend we weren't close.
"Seriously though," she said, adjusting her ponytail. "You need to loosen up your body, too.
"I've just had a long week."
"That's what stretching is for."
She sat up slightly, then swung one leg over the other. Her thigh pressed lightly against mine. She didn't move.
"You know how to foam roll?"
I gave a half-laugh. "Not really."
"Figures."
She reached behind her and lifted one foot onto the couch, casually balancing as she began flexing and pointing it.
Toned calves. No hesitation in how she moved. Like her body was always in-use.
"If you ever want a real stretch," she said, "you ask me. I've got stuff Yuna doesn't even know about. Hell—half the guys I train leave red in the face."
I turned toward her. "You're a trainer?"
"Not full-time anymore. Too many egos, too much sweat. But I keep clients who listen."
Her gaze met mine again.
"You seem like the listening type."
"Depends what's being said."
She grinned.
Then leaned closer.
Her hand rested briefly on my knee.
Just a brush. A test.
I didn't flinch.
She noticed.
"You're tense," she said, lower now. "But curious."
I didn't answer.
She pulled her hand back. "That's okay. Curiosity gets you places."
Ji-won stood, slowly, adjusting her waistband.
"I'll come by again," she said. "We can try something light. Just a warm-up."
Her eyes locked on mine one more time.
"And maybe next time, you won't act like you're still thinking about rules."
She walked to the door, slipping back into her shoes without urgency.
"Tell Yuna I said hi. Or don't. I'm not shy."
Then she left.
The door clicked behind her.