YUZE
My life had been running smoothly until recently.
Or at least, as smoothly as I preferred it to be.
Quiet. Predictable. Organized.
Then, for the first time in twenty-five years, I made a stupid decision.
I agreed to rent the upstairs apartment to a certain woman.
In my defense, my mother had practically launched a full-scale campaign to convince me.
"She's a student."
"She's new to China."
"She needs help."
And somehow, against my better judgment, I agreed.
Since then, peace had become a distant memory.
The strange thing was that Mira never actually looked for trouble.
Trouble simply seemed to find her on its own.
Being Careless. Lost phones. Missed calls. Arguments. Public scenes. Rooftops.
And now, apparently, flying clothes.
At this point, I was beginning to suspect she had some unnatural talent for turning ordinary days into disasters.
The thought of her alone was enough to make me associate her with problems.
Not a person.
A problem.
An incredibly loud, stubborn, and exhausting problem.
And somehow...
One that kept appearing in front of me no matter how hard I tried to stay out of her way.
But one thing about her genuinely surprised me.
No matter how many times she embarrassed herself, she never seemed to give up.
Most people would learn after the first few mistakes.
Some after the second.
Mira, apparently, preferred repeating them until they became a lifestyle.
And yet, every single time she stumbled into another disaster, she got back up and charged toward the next one as if nothing had happened.
Stubborn was an understatement.
Right now, she was lying on top of me after nearly throwing herself off a rooftop over a problem that could have waited until tomorrow.
And somehow, this wasn't even the most ridiculous thing she had done since arriving in China.
The strange part was that even after all the trouble she caused herself, she never stopped trying.
Never stopped fighting.
Never stopped insisting she could handle everything alone.
Even when she clearly couldn't.
I looked down at the woman frozen in my arms, probably still trying to process what had just happened.
The same woman who argued with me every chance she got.
The same woman who treated accepting help like it was a personal defeat.
The same woman who somehow managed to turn every ordinary day into complete chaos.
And yet...
For the first time since meeting her, she was quiet.
Completely quiet.
No arguments.
No complaints.
No sarcastic remarks.
Just wide eyes staring back at me.
...That was somehow even more concerning.
Because for the first time in my life, I found myself this close to a woman I barely understood.
Close enough to notice details I normally never paid attention to.
The way panic and determination somehow coexisted on her face.
The way she could argue with anyone one minute and nearly throw herself into trouble the next.
The way she never seemed to know when to quit.
And somehow...
Even now, after almost falling off a rooftop, she was still clutching her victory like retrieving that stupid garment had been a matter of life and death.
I looked at her for a second longer than I should have.
She's...
Different.
Wait.
What the hell?
I immediately looked away.
No.
Different wasn't the right word.
Troublesome.
That was the word.
An unnecessarily loud, stubborn, disaster-prone tenant who somehow kept appearing in the center of every problem.
Much better.
That explanation made far more sense than the other thought my mind had almost wandered into.
"CHEN YUZE! MIRA! WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING UP THERE? YOU'RE GOING TO KILL ME FROM WORRY DOWN HERE!"
My mother's voice echoed from below.
The sudden shout made the scaredy cat lying on top of me practically jump.
Her eyes widened before she immediately looked over the balcony.
"Y-Yes, Aunty," she called back, her voice stumbling over itself. "W-We are... fine?"
Even I wasn't sure why that sounded more like a question than an answer.
Then she looked back down at me.
The confusion on her face was almost impressive.
Like her brain had completely stopped functioning.
Pathetic.
I let out a quiet scoff.
Not enough for my mother to hear.
Just enough for her.
The sound seemed to snap her back to reality.
Finally.
Because judging by the look on her face, she had only just realized she was still lying on top of me.
A visible wave of horror crossed her expression.
Then, without a single word, she scrambled away so quickly that I almost thought she was trying to break some world record.
Interesting.
A few seconds ago she couldn't move.
Now she was moving faster than gravity itself.
I pushed myself up from the floor and dusted off my sleeves.
Below us, my mother finally released a long sigh of relief after seeing both of us standing.
"Thank goodness," she said, pressing a hand to her chest. "For a moment I thought one of you had fallen."
One of us almost did.
I glanced sideways.
Mira was standing a few feet away now, refusing to look anywhere in my direction.
Her ears were red.
Her face was red.
Actually...
She looked like she wanted the rooftop to collapse and bury her alive.
For some reason, that thought almost made me laugh.
Almost.
Then she suddenly pointed toward the ladder.
"Aunty," she announced far too loudly, "I got it!"
She lifted the recovered item like a victorious warrior returning from battle.
There was a brief silence.
I closed my eyes.
My mother closed her eyes.
And for the first time in my life, I considered voluntarily throwing myself off the roof.
This girl was really something else.
_______________
After that incident on the rooftop, I barely saw her for days.
Not that I was looking.
At least, that's what I told myself.
But every now and then, I'd catch a glimpse of her through the bakery's glass door-sneaking out of the building as if she were escaping from a crime scene.
The moment she noticed either me or Ma downstairs, she'd immediately change directions.
Like a frightened cat.
Or a wanted criminal.
Probably both.
I didn't bother stopping her.
In fact, her avoiding me should have made things easier.
Quieter.
Peaceful.
Exactly how my life used to be before she arrived.
No arguments.
No disasters.
No unnecessary interruptions in the middle of my day.
Just the way I preferred it.
So why did the bakery suddenly feel so empty?
Why did the days seem longer?
Why did everything become so... calm?
I frowned at the architectural draft spread across my desk.
This was what I wanted, wasn't it?
For my life to return to normal.
For things to go back to the way they were before that chaotic woman stepped into it.
Yet somehow...
The silence felt different now.
Annoyingly different.
I tapped my pen against the desk.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then threw it aside in irritation.
...I'm bored.
The realization hit me so suddenly that I almost frowned at myself.
Bored?
Since when did I get bored?
My work was the same.
My routine was the same.
Nothing had changed.
Except...
A certain loud tenant had stopped barging into my peace.
...
No.
That couldn't possibly be the reason.
Absolutely not.
That would be ridiculous.
Right?
...No.
That couldn't possibly be the reason.
Absolutely not.
That would be ridiculous.
I returned my attention to the blueprint in front of me.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
Then fifteen.
Nothing.
Not a single line had been added to the design.
I stared at the paper.
The paper stared back.
Tired of the feeling, I crossed my arms and leaned back completely in my chair, my gaze drifting toward the ceiling.
As if an idea would suddenly appear.
As if I was waiting for something to happen.
Then-
"AHHHHHHHH! FUCK MY LIFE-!"
A scream erupted from upstairs.
I froze.
...
For the first time all week, that chaotic woman had done something that would undoubtedly ruin both mine and my mother's evening.
And somehow...
The thought didn't annoy me.
I don't know why.
But I smirked.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!
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