Hira peeked inside the quiet house. A sticker on the wall read: "Guests Must Report."
The grand house seemed deserted as she stepped through the first room.
In front of the second bedroom, she noticed a pair of sandals. Her mood soured instantly. She had already told Mrs. Yulia she would be moving in today. Mrs. Yulia had confirmed the room was ready. And yet here it was—door shut, sandals outside, as though someone had claimed it.
Hira walked deeper into the corridor, glancing at the doors lining the hallway. One door led to a connecting passage between the boarding house and the neighboring home.
There, her eyes widened. A lush garden stretched before her—green grass, colorful orchids clinging to the walls, and a koi pond with water gently trickling down the stone fountain. The scene was tranquil, almost magical.
But no one was around. She returned to the room she had booked, counting the doors again to make sure it was indeed hers. Just as she lifted her hand to knock, the door swung open.
A man stood before her—bare-chested, a towel draped around his neck, his left hand running through damp hair. He froze, startled by the elegant woman suddenly standing at his threshold.
"Whose room is this?" Hira asked sharply, her gaze sweeping the interior with quiet judgment.
"Sorry," he answered quickly, thinking fast. "Just quick shower."
Hira's lips tightened.
A moment later, he reappeared, now wearing a T-shirt, a casual smile still playing on his face.
Still has the nerve to smile? She thought. Irritated, she assumed he must be the caretaker or perhaps Mrs. Yulia's assistant. He should've used the shared bathroom instead of her room.
☯☯☯
The boarding house was wide and airy, immediately charming Hira the first time she saw its ad. The front yard could fit four cars with ease.
Rooms lined one side, forming an L-shape from the parking area to the back. At the far end was Mrs. Yulia's assistant's room, followed by Room One (booked by someone else), and then Room Two—Hira's.
In front of these three rooms, motorbikes belonging to tenants were neatly parked. Beyond them lay the living room, and at the very end, a fully equipped kitchen.
The connecting door between the boarding house and the main residence was positioned directly across from Room Two—Hira's room. Upstairs were larger rooms, and the third floor held a hydroponic garden that thrived under the mountain air. From there, sunlight and wind flowed freely, and the view stretched green and wide.
Everything about this place felt abundant. To Hira, discovering it was nothing short of a miracle—like stepping into a dream that had taken shape.
☯☯☯
On the living room table, two kittens—one brown, one black—played noisily. Hira sat down on the sofa, and one of them leapt into her lap, settling quietly as if to share her view of the parking lot outside.
Suddenly, the same man appeared again, carrying a shirt in a laundry bag. He headed for the connecting door beside the living room. Just before disappearing inside, his eyes flicked toward Hira, a glance sharp enough to catch her breath.
A song drifted softly from upstairs, the familiar melody of Somewhere Over the Rainbow:
Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream,
Really do come true…
☯☯☯