"Zai, help me with this."
Zai groaned but followed his grandfather outside. Together, they wrestled the old washing machine onto the truck. It wobbled dangerously, groaned under their weight, and Zai nearly fell on his face more than once.
"Ugh… this thing is so heavy," he grunted, wiping sweat from his forehead.
His grandfather's nose scrunched as he sniffed the air. "Have you taken a bath today?"
Zai froze mid-lift. "What?!" His face turned red.
"I… I… I don't need a bath!"
"Not taken a bath… in three days?" his grandfather asked.
Zai opened his mouth to argue but couldn't find the words. The truth hit too hard. He was that lazy.
His grandfather shook his head, laughing and shaking his nose like it had a mind of its own.
"Boy… you're lucky I don't make soap a requirement for living in this house."
Zai huffed, puffing out his chest like he'd just been insulted to his core. "I helped you carry the washing machine, didn't I? That's… uh… exercise! That counts for something!"
His grandfather chuckled, ruffling Zai's messy hair. "Yeah, yeah. You're lucky you're still my grandson."
Despite himself, Zai grinned. Maybe he was lazy. Maybe he stank. But the old man's laugh that made it all feel a little lighter.
"Alright, alright," Zai said, brushing imaginary dust off his hoodie. "I'll show you I'm not completely useless."
His grandfather squinted, clearly amused. "You're gonna help me finish unloading these machines without falling on your face?"
"Exactly!" Zai puffed up his chest, grabbing the next machine. "Watch and learn, Grandpa!"
He lifted it and immediately slipped on a patch of soapy water that had spilled from a drum earlier.
"ZAI!" his grandfather shouted, lunging to grab him. But Zai slid halfway across the courtyard, arms flailing, knocking over a small stack of empty buckets.
The machine toppled, squealing like it was alive, but miraculously didn't break.
Zai groaned, tangled in a heap, soaked in suds.
"I… I was… I was… showing technique!"
His grandfather doubled over laughing, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "Technique? You call that technique? Boy, you're lucky you didn't crush yourself!"
Zai sat up, suds dripping from his hair, glaring at the old man. "I… I did my best!"
"You did your best, and that's why I love you," his grandfather said, still chuckling. "Now get up before the next customer sees us acting like fools."
Zai grumbled but couldn't help laughing too. Even soaked, exhausted, and embarrassingly lazy, moments like this with his grandfather by his side made all the sweat, soap, and bruised pride worth it.
***
Zai shuffled back into the apartment, still dripping with suds, and spotted the old space heater in the corner.
"Finally… some warmth," he muttered, fumbling with the plug.
He crouched down, trying to line it up with the socket, and—
ZAP!
A jolt of electricity shot through him. Zai let out a loud, involuntary grunt and jumped back, his hair standing on end. Sparks fizzled from the outlet like tiny fireworks.
Ouch!
"Ugh… why am I like this?" he groaned, rubbing his arm.
His grandfather peeked around the doorway, one eyebrow raised. "That's why I always say… leave the wiring to me, boy."
Zai scowled but couldn't help a weak grin. "Yeah, yeah… maybe I'll just stick to carrying washing machines."
Zai took a deep breath. "Alright… round two. No sparks this time. I swear."
He crouched down again, squinting at the plug like it was a puzzle from hell. Slowly… carefully, he slid it toward the socket.
CRACK!
A tiny spark jumped out. Zai yelped, jerking backward and knocking over a small stack of textbooks. They toppled like dominoes across the floor.
"Seriously?!" he groaned, sitting on the floor, hair sticking up in every direction. "It's just a heater! Just fucking heat!"
His grandfather appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, trying not to laugh. "You've got the talent for chaos, boy. Ever thought about joining a circus?"
Zai shot him a glare. "Very funny. You think you're safe, don't you?"
He stood, determined, and tried a third time. This time he tapped the plug into the socket with the precision of a bomb-defuser. Slowly, the heater hummed to life.
Zai gave a triumphant grin, pumping his fist in the air and immediately tripped over the cord, sprawling across the floor like a ragdoll.
His grandfather shook his head, chuckling so hard he had to lean against the wall. "You… are hopeless.
The two of them laughed together, the apartment warm with both heat and the simple joy of being together — chaos and all