The streets of Seoul were alive with their usual chaos. Horns blaring, people rushing to and fro, neon lights flickering in the distance.
Yet inside a shabby old apartment building tucked between two larger complexes, a silence hung heavy.
The landlord, a bent-backed man with a wrinkled face and weary eyes, sat across from two teenagers who looked far too young to be standing before him.
His brows were drawn tight in disbelief as he tapped the wooden counter with a thick finger.
"So, you're telling me you two want to live together?" His voice carried not only skepticism but a trace of scorn.
The two children stood side by side, hands clasped. Behind them sat a large, scuffed black box that contained what little they owned.
Mi-kyong raised her chin and nodded without hesitation. "Yes, sir. My husband and I would like to pay for rent."
The old man froze, his jaw slack. "Are you two insane? Husband? You're barely out of grade school."
