When Agani arrived in South Korea for her job at a travel company, she thought life abroad would feel cinematic — strolls by the river, cozy evenings, and maybe even inspiration for the travel blogs she edited.
Instead, she found herself in a cramped company apartment where the heater groaned like an old man, and the neighbor's karaoke sessions began precisely when her video meetings did.
By the third day, she gave up pretending she could "adjust."
"I work for a travel company, not a survival camp," she muttered, wrapping her blanket around her shoulders like a cape.
So, one afternoon, she opened her laptop and began scrolling through rental listings. After half an hour of "No pets, no noise, no personality," one ad caught her attention:
> Shared House Available
Spacious, full of light, quiet rooftop.
Must love tea, music, and peaceful chaos.
Agani tilted her head. Peaceful chaos? That sounds dangerously like me.
She called the number.
A cheerful voice answered, "Hello! This is Re-ha."
Within minutes, they were laughing like old friends. By the end of the call, Agani had an appointment for the next day.
---
The house sat on a quiet street in Mapo-gu, tucked between a row of gingko trees. The building had two floors, pale cream walls, and blue window frames — simple, yet full of charm.
When the door opened, a woman with warm brown eyes and short, stylish hair smiled at her.
"You must be Agani! Come in — watch your step, my cat thinks she owns this place."
Inside, the house felt instantly alive. The living room opened into a large kitchen filled with plants and sunlight. There were four bedrooms, each painted a different color — soft green, coral, sky blue, and mustard yellow.
"It's a big house," Agani said, surprised.
"Big enough for four people," said Re-ha proudly. "But right now, it's just me. I'm a fashion designer, so sometimes the living room turns into a fabric explosion."
Agani laughed. "That's fine. My desk at work looks like a paper tornado."
"Perfect," Re-ha grinned. "We'll get along."
They sat at the kitchen table while a ginger cat circled their feet. "What about you?" Re-ha asked.
"I work at a travel company," Agani replied. "Mostly planning international trips, but I've been feeling like… I needed a new space. Somewhere calmer, warmer."
Re-ha nodded knowingly. "I used to work at a travel company too — before I switched to fashion full-time. I loved the stories, but not the spreadsheets."
Agani smiled. "Exactly! Someone finally understands."
The tea kettle whistled. It felt like the universe had brewed the moment just for them.
---
A few days later, Agani officially moved in. The house already felt like a small world — spacious but cozy, quiet yet full of soft laughter.
One evening, as she was unpacking, the doorbell rang.
"That'll be Jin," Re-ha said. "My boyfriend. He drops by to bring food or steal my snacks."
Agani raised an eyebrow. "Steals them?"
"You'll see."
Moments later, a tall man appeared with a bag of pastries and an easy grin. "Hey! I brought sugar therapy."
"Jin, meet Agani — my new housemate," said Re-ha.
Jin waved. "Welcome! I don't live here, by the way. I just visit to refill my girlfriend's snack supply and provide moral support for broken zippers."
Agani laughed. "Good to know. I'll warn the fridge."
Re-ha rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. He's a fashion designer too, but more dramatic."
"Creative, not dramatic," Jin said proudly.
The three of them sat together, sharing pastries and stories. Jin was full of energy — quick jokes, wild ideas, and the kind of warmth that filled a room.
"So, Agani," Jin said between bites, "working in a travel company — do you get to travel much?"
"Sometimes," she said. "But it's mostly others who get the tickets. I just make sure the dream runs on schedule."
"That's poetic," Re-ha smiled. "You send people chasing skies while you stay grounded."
"Yeah," Agani said softly, "but maybe that's why I'm here — to start chasing a little bit myself."
Re-ha reached over and squeezed her hand. "Then let's make this your new beginning."
---
Weeks passed, and the rhythm of the house settled into harmony.
Re-ha often stayed up late sketching dress patterns, music softly playing in the background. Agani would join her with a mug of tea, reviewing travel itineraries on her laptop. Sometimes Jin dropped by with rolls of fabric, sometimes just to chat.
Their conversations ranged from silly to deep.
"Tell me," Jin said once, "if you could go anywhere right now, where would it be?"
Agani thought for a moment. "Somewhere that feels like home — even if I've never been there."
Re-ha smiled. "Maybe you've already found it."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward — it was peaceful, like an unspoken understanding.
---
That night, as Agani stood by her window watching the lights of Seoul glitter across the skyline, she felt something shift. For the first time since she arrived, the city didn't feel foreign. It felt… familiar.
She glanced at her notebook, where an old torn diary page still rested — the one with her name written across it: Agani.
She touched the faded letters gently and smiled.
Maybe it wasn't a mystery anymore.
Maybe it was destiny — leading her right to this big, beautiful house, a cat that stared like a philosopher, a kind designer who brewed perfect tea, and a man who joked too much but meant well.
For the first time in a long while, Agani didn't feel like a traveler.
She felt like she'd finally arrived.
"He was looking at her. Suddenly, she came behind him and asked, 'Looks like the time has started.' Everyone thought they were dead, but now they have come back. Now, time has started; the clock is ticking again."