Relieved to find that your obnoxious neighbour was nowhere in sight, you snuck Minseok up the stairs.  Your landlady was easygoing most of the time, but she could be retentive about the most random things, like pets, roommates not on the lease, and hybrids.  You didn’t want to have to pay the monthly hybrid deposit, or sign a new lease (which would probably come with its own rent increase).  “Okay,” you whispered as you toed off your shoes.  “I only have one bedroom, so I’ll have to make you a pallet.”

“That’s fine,” he said softly.  “Why are we whispering?”

“Oh, sorry,” you answered in a normal voice.  “Force of habit.  My downstairs neighbour is a super about noise.”  

“Oh?”

“Um, yes, I’m sorry.  Basically, no noise after sundown, or else he’ll start beating on the ceiling or the door.  That’s as far as he ever goes, but I just...hate loud, sudden noises.”  Turning just as you said this, you thought that you saw a flash of anger ripple over Minseok’s face, but when you glanced back his expression was as placid as ever.  Shaking it off, you smiled.  “Would you like a shower?  I could wash your clothes for you.”

“I have a clean set in my backpack…”

“Oh, ok.  So…”

“Yes, on that shower, please,” he said, his tone grateful.  “I’m actually pretty cold.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!  It’s just through there,” you indicated, pointing.  “Would you mind seolleongtang for dinner?”

“That would be really nice, thank you,” he smiled.  

“You’re welcome. Well, I’ll let you get to it.  You can use anything you find, my only rule is if you use it, clean it.”

He smiled ruefully.  “I’m actually...a bit of a clean-freak, if you can believe it.”

Looking him over thoughtfully, you nodded.  “I can.  I mean, I don’t know how long you’ve been sleeping rough, but you’re always clean, and you always smell--a--uh--”  Your throat closed up as you were about to say something terminally embarrassing, and your mind raced as you tried to figure out how to get yourself out of it.  “Smiiiile.”

“I...smile?” His voice was uncertain, though his eyes danced.  

“Ah, yes.  You smile.  You always smile. Your mouth--your teeth, they’re always clean.  So, um, yes, I should...start heating that soup…and the rice...”  With an awkward about-face, you marched to the kitchen, pretending that you didn’t hear the endearing chuckles that headed toward the bathroom.

***

The next morning, you blindly stumbled out of your bedroom in search of tea.  Gritty-eyed, and half asleep, you looked around for Minseok, to see him in starfish position on his pallet, on his back, arms and legs flung every which way, mouth slightly open as he slept.  Well, you thought to yourself, I guess he feels safe.  Frowning, you thought for a moment.  Hadn’t you made the pallet just under the window last night?  

This morning, Minseok and his pallet lay in the corner of the room--a mere few feet away from the window.  

Shrugging, you turned to the kitchen.  Perhaps he could feel the cold seeping through the window.  No matter.

The week after that, you had to go in early, and it was still dark as you tiptoed through the living room.  No breakfast, no tea, nothing but the cold comfort of doing your capitalistic duty and coming in early to make donuts because the usual donut maker was out on sick leave, and you had volunteered like some sort of insane person.  Sometimes you wondered if you had some sort of manic Protestant work ethic obsessed alter that only came out just long enough to volunteer you for extra work, before going back into the sunken place.

You weren't even Protestant.

Pausing to look over the place before you left, your eyes ran over Minseok.  This morning, he was on his belly, with leg straight, the other at a 45 degree angle, one hand under his head, and the other crooked behind his back.  It didn’t look remotely comfortable, but you guessed that’s what came from being part cat.  His pallet was against the wall behind the sofa, several feet from the window, and as you turned you thought--but then you saw the time, and dashed out--grabbing your daily black-wrapped gift to take with you on the way.

The following week, you knew.  You weren’t crazy.  Or unobservant.  As you stared down at a sleeping Minseok, his shirt riding up over his belly, one hand on his chest, one leg up and bent, the other flat and bent on the pallet, you knew.  Crossing your arms, you tried not to grin at the sleeping man.  Deciding to say nothing, you went about your day.  

The next week, you almost tripped over him as soon as you opened your door.  Stifling a giggle, you carefully stepped over where he lay flat on his back, with his arms flung over his head and crossed at the wrists, one leg straight out, the other crooked at an angle.  When you returned home that evening, you eyed the pallet.  Was it even further in front of your doorway?  At dinner, you broached the subject. Spooning fluffy rice into Minseok’s bowl, you decided to just come out and start the conversation.  “Minseoksshi…  Is it cold by the windows?  Should I buy some thermal curtains?”

“Mm?” he said, looking up, his expression startled.  “Oh, um...not I don’t think that it’s...too cold by the windows.”

“Ah, really?”  Turning, you set the bowl in front of him, and sat down.  

“Thanks for the meal,” he intoned before digging in.  

“I just wondered since...it seems as if your pallet has continually crept farther from the windows each time I stop and take notice…”

His face reddened, and he quickly stuffed several bites of rice into his mouth.  When he finally swallowed, he seemed oddly downcast.  “It’s not...the window…  It’s you.  I’m sorry, I can’t help it; it’s instinct.  It’s hard not to...it’s hard to sleep so far away from you…”

At a loss, you stared down at your kongnamul guk.  “Would it make you feel...more comfortable...to have your pallet in the room with me?”

He flushed even darker.  “I couldn’t ask you to do that--”

“It’s okay,” you said, looking anywhere but at him.  “I...trust you...Minseoksshi.  I trust you.”

That night found him sleeping peacefully, curled up in his pallet, at the base of your bed.

And there he stayed.

True to his words, Minseok’s hands had healed within a couple of weeks, and with no scars.  But by then, winter had set in properly, and it seemed cruel to send him back out, so you just...didn’t bring it up…

He didn’t mention it, either.

***

The mailbox by your door only had one letter inside after you returned from work, and you tilted your head when you saw the familiar, official-sounding name.

Lu Property Management.

Minseok wasn’t inside, and you quickly started dinner, one eye on the window noting the gathering twilight.  Tonight’s dinner wasn’t going to be fancy--rice, dakgaejang, hobak bokkeum, and gaji namul, which wasn’t one of your favourites, but one of the few vegetables that he would eat without giving you pouty face.  Curiosity burned, but you wanted to make sure that you would both be fed before the door-beating hour arrived. 

It only took about 15 minutes before everything was down and cooking, and you had the letter once more in your hot little hand.  Your stomach roiled in nervous anticipation.  Several weeks prior, you had received a letter from the same company, informing you that they would be taking over the management of the apartment building, so any maintenance requests should go through them.  Furthermore, when the time came for signing your new lease, you would be paying your key money directly to them, and they, after a cut, would be paying your landlady.

It was unsurprising.  She was older, and you supposed that she not only couldn’t get around like she used to, she probably had difficulty with tenants who refused to pay, or destroyed her property.  A third-party company could handle all of that for her, so that she could rest comfortably in her old age.  All the same, tales of property management companies that evicted residents, raised rents, or decided to revamp apartments with tenants still in them--kicking said tenants out for the duration of the work without providing them with a place to stay--all ran through your head.  Steeling yourself for the inevitable, you tore open the envelope, and began to read.

Minseok walked in just as you finished.  “What is it?”

“What is what?” you answered faintly.  

“You look...dazed.”  Taking off his shoes, and hanging up his coat, he made a beeline for you, and took the letter.  

“They’re lowering...the rent.”

“What?!”  

“The...property management company…  Apparently, they have a company appraiser that appraises any properties they acquire to ascertain the best price point for rent, and...due to recent sales, this area of appraisal has depreciated in value.  Therefore…”  You drifted off, staring sightlessly out the window.  

“Therefore...” Minseok prompted, looking at you, instead of the letter.

“Therefore, they have reimbursed my method of payment 30 percent of the two year lease’s rent.  Going forward, until the property appreciates in value, they’re only charging ₩500,000 per month, fixed until my next lease.”

Minutes ticked by, with the only sound being the rolling bubbling of the spicy chicken stew.

Finally, Minseok tentatively broke the silence.  “Isn’t that...good?”

“Ye-es,” you hazarded.  “It’s good.  It is good.”

“So...why…?”

“I’m just...in shock.  I’ve never heard of anything like this happening before.  I don’t know how to take it.  I can barely...understand it.  I’m a pessimist.  When something like this happens...I can’t help but wonder...what’s the catch?”

A few more seconds went by and then, with a flurry of movement, Minseok flopped down on the couch, shamelessly laying his head in your lap.  “Pet me.”

“What?!”  Pressed against the back of the sofa, hands hovering uncertainly over him, you stared down at him in shock.

“Pet me,” he said easily.

“All of a su