Time to do the dishes. I piled the used plates in the sink, turned on the water, scrubbed with detergent, and tidied up. Checking the time, it was already nearing 10 p.m., and exhaustion was creeping in. It'd been a wild day—my body felt like it weighed a ton.
If I lay down now, I'd probably pass out instantly. From the master bedroom, I could hear the shower running—Yejin must still be in there.
Might as well poke around the house while she's washing up. Gotta know what's where if I'm going to live here comfortably.
I went back to the kitchen and opened a small door next to it. Inside was a drum washing machine, and beside it, a kimchi fridge, maybe? What's that in the corner?
Oh, a food waste dryer. I keep saying this, but our family wasn't exactly well-off.
Can you imagine two teenage boys fighting every night over who gets to sleep on the bed?
That was my house. Nothing was ever enough—whether it was a slice of watermelon, computer time, or who got the bed. We fought over everything.
And I always lost. No matter how much I cried or threw tear-soaked punches, it never worked.
Damn older brother. Or, in short, just a jerk.
Anyway, growing up in a house where we couldn't even afford separate rooms for two teenage boys, stuff like kimchi fridges or drum washers was the kind of thing you only saw in TV commercials.
So, seeing them up close now? It's kind of exciting. I mean, I can tell the drum washer is a drum washer, but the kimchi fridge and food waste dryer? I had to open them to figure out what they were.
Pretty cool.
The food waste dryer, especially, was new to me. It can turn chunks of food into powder. With something like this, dealing with food waste would be a breeze.
Honestly, while washing dishes in this high-rise apartment, I did wonder how they handle trash. But with this high-tech machine, I feel pretty secure.
Behind the dryer was another small door. I opened it.
A storage room?
Inside were stacks of toilet paper, detergent, fabric softener, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner—all sorts of household goods.
So, a bigger house means a dedicated storage space for this stuff, huh? Back home, we'd stash detergent and shampoo near the kimchi jars, but here, everything's organized.
Guess I'll come here when I need toilet paper or something. As I was about to close the door, I noticed a small box in the corner.
What's that? Probably just more toilet paper or shampoo, but… it felt like Pandora's box whispering, "Open me."
So, I stepped back into the storage room and picked up the box. It was heavy—maybe a six-pack of 1L shampoo bottles?
I opened the folded flaps.
Inside were a sickle, a hammer with a pry bar, a regular hammer, a saw, a hacksaw, nails, a drill bit—tools.
Tools, huh? Nothing weird about that. Every house has a hammer or sickle lying around somewhere. Even my house had those tucked away in a corner.
…Maybe they've got a weekend farm or something?
I fiddled with a small gardening trowel, then picked up the sickle. It was heavy, with a sharp blade that could probably slice through weeds or small branches in one swing.
Not wanting to make a mess I'd have to clean up later, I put the tool box back where it was and left the storage room.
Exploring the house further, I found a room with just exercise equipment and another with just bookshelves.
This place is unreal—must be nice to be rich. And… is that a second floor?
I climbed the stairs and tried the handle of the door blocking the second floor, but it was locked.
So, I went back downstairs.
Maybe it's time for a shower. They say if you want to live a long, healthy life, showering daily is a must. Cleanliness is key.
Luckily, there was another bathroom besides the one Yejin was using, so I decided to use that.
This bathroom is nice.
Being a rich household, everything was big—the bathtub, everything.
The water's warm too.
Obviously, the hot water worked fine. Then it hit me: I hadn't changed my underwear all day. I went to the master bedroom and opened the wardrobe.
Lucky me—I immediately found a neatly organized section with men's underwear and pajamas. I grabbed what I needed.
Whoosh—the sound of water pouring came from the master bathroom. Yejin was still showering.
Holding my underwear and pajamas, I glanced at the closed bathroom door.
…Wait, is this a setup?
Like, you know, the classic "she's showering first" scenario?
But for that to happen, don't you need some kind of romantic vibe beforehand? Not just eating curry, drinking coffee, and watching variety shows, then bam—straight to that?
I don't know.
Just in case, I'll shower first.
With that thought, I grabbed my clothes and headed to the other bathroom to wash up.