As unsurprising as it gets, the person living in my house is just me.
My father is long gone, and my mother’s in prison.
So, logically, I should be the only one in this house.
Yet, I wasn’t particularly shocked when a random woman’s voice broke the silence.
“I didn’t even hear the door open. When did you get here?”
It wasn’t like she was a stranger.
I don’t remember exactly when, but one day, I collapsed after skipping meals out of sheer laziness, and she’s the one who called 119 and took me to the hospital.
After making sure I was fine, she just left to go back to work. I probably told her the door code in my dazed state back then.
So, it’s no wonder she waltzes in like she owns the place and acts all caring toward me.
And judging by the way she’s staring at me without looking away, she’s probably a decent person.
To anyone else, this house would scream “girl living alone without parents.”
If she had bad intentions, she could’ve acted on them by now.
But she just stands there, staring at me, not making any moves toward me or anything else.
“Just got here. Hmm, maybe you didn’t hear because of the loud bang, Noeul?”
I know it’s polite to make eye contact when talking to people.
But ever since I became a girl, it hasn’t been easy.
Thanks to someone who’d beat me senseless for looking up with “those disgusting eyes.”
When I bled from my eye, he must’ve felt a pang of guilt because he didn’t hit me for a while after that.
He’d say, “If you want to keep your remaining eye, stop looking up like that.”
…Well, the person who said that is dead now.
Maybe that’s why it’s so hard for me to look at people.
So, intentionally, my gaze lingered on the woman’s chest.
Thanks to that, I don’t know what her face looks like.
All I can think is, “That white shirt suits her well, and the neat pencil skirt and black stockings make her look like a proper working woman.”
A vision of myself I can never achieve after becoming a girl.
It’s bitter, but the unbridgeable gap doesn’t even allow me to feel jealousy.
I’m just grateful that such a woman shows interest in me.
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. I rushed in thinking you might’ve collapsed again, but you seem fine. That’s good.”
“Thanks to you.”
Was her soft tone because she came in after I woke up?
Or was she just pretending not to see me lying there like a fool?
Either way, for someone abandoned even by their family, her concern feels overwhelmingly warm.
I awkwardly avoided her gaze and lowered my head, only to notice the instant noodles in my hand.
“Uh, it’s nothing much, but… do you want some?”
“I’m good. I’ve already eaten. But do you only eat instant noodles? Every time I see you, it’s always noodles. I’m a bit worried.”
“…It’s fine. Noodles are tasty. Plus, if you don’t drink the broth, they’re practically health food.”
I saw a doctor on YouTube explain it, so it must be true.
I’ve been eating nothing but noodles, and I’m still alive, aren’t I?
It’s way better than when I’d get smacked with a spoon or hit by a flying side dish lid during family meals.
At least no one bothers me when I eat noodles in my room.
“Hmm, okay then. Enjoy your meal. Don’t mind me.”
Maybe she noticed I stiffen up whenever she gets closer.
The woman maintained a certain distance and stood in the dusty living room.
Leaving her there and going into my room alone felt awkward.
From a normal person’s perspective, I should probably say, “You’re technically trespassing. Please leave.”
But she’s the one who once took me to the hospital.
And today, she came in because she was worried about me.
For a guest like that, I should at least offer tea or something.
But rummaging through the cupboard for coffee or tea is a hassle for me.
Climbing onto a chair is easy, but balancing on one leg up there? Not so much.
“Uh, that area’s messy since I haven’t cleaned it… Come over here. Standing must be tiring. Sit somewhere comfortable.”
So, out of politeness, I offered her a seat.
“Sure. Eating alone must be lonely. Should I keep you company?”
Lonely? I’ve never really felt that while living alone.
But I didn’t want to push away the warmth she brought.
“Sure, there’s only one chair in my room, but I’ll grab a chair from the dining table for you.”
So, I turned around.
Moving anything with significant weight is still tough for me.
But I’ve got enough strength to drag it to my room.
Besides, I had a little revenge plan for the downstairs noise while she was here.
But the woman, not wanting to trouble me, waved her hand and went into my room ahead of me.
“It’s fine. If you’re eating in your room, I can just sit on the floor.”
“S-sit on the bed.”
“Oh, is that okay?”
“Yes.”
Following her, I returned to my sanctuary with my still-warm noodles.
Once I was back, the sight of clothes scattered on the floor and the unmade bed made my face burn with embarrassment.
Well, I live alone. If I run out of clothes to wear, I’ll just do laundry.
Who needs to make the bed when no one’s watching?
But now, with someone else here, the mess felt mortifying.
Even though she must’ve noticed my discomfort, the woman just laughed cheerfully.
“Haha, Noeul, after eating, you should clean up. Right?”
I could’ve brushed it off.
She didn’t say anything about the chaotic living room.
But her mentioning it was probably because it’s my space, my room.
So, she said it knowing I’d feel embarrassed.
Or maybe I just missed hearing words that weren’t laced with malice. I readily agreed.
“I’ll do it later.”
But not right now. First, I’ll finish my noodles, play a few rounds of games.
Then, when I’m too unfocused and my team’s falling apart, I’ll quit and clean.
“Oh, come on. You mean you’ll do it later, right? And you’ll just leave it like this again. Let’s clean while I’m here.”
“…Okay, sis.”
But she knew me too well.
Probably because last time I promised to clean, but the room still looks like this.
So, even though I still struggle with being a girl, I obediently called her “sis” and agreed.
The woman sat on my bed and crossed her legs.
This lowered her face a bit, but I still had nowhere to look.
I kept my head down as I shuffled to the spot where I spend over 10 hours a day.
Thud. Thud. Moving slowly to avoid spilling the noodles, I sat in front of the monitor where my match cancellation penalty timer was running.
And under her watchful gaze, I started slurping the noodles.
Slurp. The spicy, salty noodles made my slightly sore stomach feel better.
Talking to her made the noodles a bit soggy, but the carefully crafted recipes by food scientists were still satisfying enough for someone like me.
The noodles being soft made it easier to chew and swallow.
Chewing and swallowing the noodles, I felt her gaze, making it a bit awkward.
How long has it been since I ate with someone?
Of course, she wasn’t holding chopsticks, and the last time I ate with someone wasn’t a great memory either.
But even if I haven’t seen her face, having someone watch over me without malice felt strangely warm.
Though it also made me a bit self-conscious.
It’s not like I’m some pet.
I glanced at her, wanting to complain a little.
But since I couldn’t see her face, all I could do was look at her legs.
So, I kept quiet.
In the end, I finished the noodles without a word, slurping up the broth completely.
Habitually, I added another empty cup noodle container to the tower I’d stacked next to my keyboard.
“You just keep stacking those without cleaning them? Wow, that’s over 10 layers. That means you haven’t cleaned in at least three or four days.”
Her teasing scolding reached me.
…I only eat once or twice a day, so it’s been over ten days. Better not mention that.
“I’ll clean them.”
So, as promised, I gathered the cup noodle containers and headed to the living room.
Even though I clean occasionally, I don’t keep trash bags in my room.
I used to do recycling behind the kitchen, near the washing machine and other junk.
But my father would come home drunk, and my mom would lock me in there to protect me.
Listening to my father’s drunken rants from that spot left me with no desire to go back.
So, for convenience, the trash bags are by the entrance.
Not that there’s much in them besides cup noodle containers.
I tossed the containers in, crushed them to reduce the volume, and tied the bag.
Fitting about ten more containers in, I headed to the kitchen.
Earlier, I said noodles are healthy if you don’t drink the broth, but that’s about sodium.
Doctors say to avoid the broth because people consume too much sodium these days.
But for someone like me, who only eats noodles, it’s fine.
Plus, there’s no food waste if you drink the broth.
But it’s still salty, so I needed a sip of water to rinse my mouth.
After that, I tossed the scattered clothes into the washing machine.
The clothes keep dust from settling on the floor.
So, a quick vacuum on the desk, and the cleaning’s done.
Ah, moving this much after so long is tiring.
Even if it was forced, it felt refreshing.
Slumping into my chair, I was about to reward myself with some gaming when—
“Noeul, is that cleaning? You’re supposed to vacuum and mop too.”
“I did. The laundry covered most of the floor, so there’s probably no dust left.”
“Sigh, well, it’s better than nothing. But after cleaning, you should shower. When’s the last time you showered?”
“Like… the day before yesterday.”
“Noeul, even if you’re pretty enough to not smell bad without showering, you still need to shower daily. Got it?”
She wasn’t letting me slack off, hitting me with an even bigger challenge.
I wasn’t thrilled, but I knew she was saying it for my sake, so I couldn’t refuse.
“…Okay, I got it.”
Under her pressure, sitting there with crossed legs like she wasn’t leaving until I showered, I dragged my feet to the bathroom.
Oh, with one leg missing, my steps were lighter than usual.
