The apartment occupancy situation had been at seven for two weeks.
Han-Ho. Moru. Kjor. River. Min-Seo. The old man. Baek Suri.
Seven was still above the maximum legal occupancy of four.
But seven was manageable. Seven had a system. Seven had established territories and routines and the specific comfortable rhythm of a place that had figured out how to be occupied by more people than it was designed for.
Then Aria arrived.
Eight.
Han-Ho counted.
Eight.
He made a note.
Apartment: eight occupants. Maximum legal: four. Variance: four. Previous variance: three. Regression.
He showed the note to Min-Seo.
Min-Seo looked at it.
Looked at Aria who was standing in the center of the apartment looking at everything with the wide careful eyes of someone who had crossed dimensional Gates and kingdoms and months of travel and had arrived at a place considerably smaller than anything that journey had suggested.
"It is very small," said Aria.
"I know," said Han-Ho.
"And clean."
"Yes."
"Very clean." She looked at the floor. At the walls. At the surfaces. "It is the cleanest place I have ever been."
"Thank you," said Han-Ho.
Aria looked at the couch.
At Moru on the left corner.
Moru looked at Aria.
Aria looked at Moru.
The sword at her hip glowed.
Moru's red eyes went to the sword.
The sword's glow and Moru's red eyes regarded each other for a moment.
"Former Demon King," said Moru.
"Three thousand year prophecy sword," said the sword.
They were both quiet.
"You can sense me," said Moru.
"Yes," said the sword. It did not speak exactly. It communicated through glow intensity and the specific quality of its light. Aria translated automatically the way someone translates a language they have known since childhood. "You are very clean."
"I was cleaned," said Moru. "By him." He indicated Han-Ho.
The sword looked at Han-Ho.
Glowed very briefly in the direction of Han-Ho.
"Yes," said Moru. "That is correct."
Kjor on the right corner offered Aria a chip.
Aria took it.
"We already did this at the GS25," said Aria.
"The apartment chips are different," said Kjor.
"They are the same chips."
"The apartment ones are better," said Kjor, with complete certainty.
Aria ate the chip.
Looked at Kjor.
"They are the same," said Aria.
"Context changes the experience," said Kjor.
Aria looked at the chip.
Looked at the apartment.
At the couch and the floor and the clean surfaces and Moru and Kjor and River by the kettle and the cactus on the windowsill and Han-Ho making notes and Min-Seo on the middle section watching everything.
"Yes," said Aria. "I think you are right."
The where Aria was going to sleep question required addressing.
Not immediately. It was Tuesday afternoon. There was time.
But Han-Ho's approach to problems was to address them before they became urgent so he addressed it at four PM by calling Min-Seo into the kitchen area which was not really a separate area but was the section of the apartment where the refrigerator was and which had developed an informal designation as the consultation zone.
"Aria," said Han-Ho.
"Yes," said Min-Seo.
"She needs accommodation."
"Yes."
"The apartment is at variance four."
"I know."
"Yoo Chae-Won's apartment has Wei Junhao and Hwang Chulsoo."
"Yes."
"Baek Suri is here," said Han-Ho. "She is approximately the same age as Aria. Similar background in the sense that both are young martial artists from their respective worlds who arrived through Gates because they were following something."
Min-Seo looked at him.
"You want to put Aria with Baek Suri," said Min-Seo.
"Baek Suri has been at the Mapo apartment for three weeks," said Han-Ho. "She knows the area. She knows the GS25. She knows the route schedule. She can orient Aria."
"The apartment is still at variance four with Baek Suri here."
"Yes," said Han-Ho. "But Baek Suri's presence is established. Adding Aria without a corresponding reduction elsewhere is not—"
"Han-Ho," said Min-Seo.
"Yes."
"Are you trying to work out the apartment mathematics."
"The mathematics are not working," said Han-Ho.
"No," said Min-Seo. "They have not been working since week two."
Han-Ho looked at the refrigerator.
At the left side of the second shelf where the tofu was.
"The Seocho apartment," said Han-Ho.
Min-Seo looked at him.
"I have not been there in seven weeks," said Min-Seo.
"I know."
"It is a very nice apartment."
"I know."
"Good floors," said Han-Ho.
"Yes," said Min-Seo. "Good floors."
They looked at each other.
"The old man uses it for training," said Han-Ho.
"Yes."
"And sometimes Wei Junhao."
"Yes."
"There is floor space," said Han-Ho.
"Han-Ho," said Min-Seo.
"Yes."
"Are you suggesting I give my apartment to Aria."
"I am suggesting Aria and Baek Suri use the Seocho apartment," said Han-Ho. "Which you are not using. Which has good floors. Which is close enough to the Mapo apartment that the route integration is manageable."
Min-Seo looked at the kitchen area ceiling.
"And where do I sleep," said Min-Seo.
Han-Ho looked at the middle section of the couch which was visible through the kitchen area non-wall.
Min-Seo followed his gaze.
Looked at the couch.
Looked at Han-Ho.
"The middle section," said Min-Seo.
"It has been yours for seven weeks," said Han-Ho.
"Because I had nowhere—" Min-Seo stopped.
He looked at the couch.
At the middle section.
At the specific shape of the indentation that seven weeks of sleeping there had created.
"The middle section is mine," said Min-Seo.
"Yes," said Han-Ho.
"You said that in the hospital."
"Yes."
"The middle section will be there when you come back," said Min-Seo.
"Yes," said Han-Ho.
Min-Seo was quiet for a moment.
"Aria and Baek Suri can use the Seocho apartment," said Min-Seo.
"Thank you," said Han-Ho.
"The good floors," said Min-Seo.
"Yes."
"Aria will appreciate the floors."
"She noticed the cleaning quality immediately," said Han-Ho. "She will appreciate good floors."
Min-Seo called Ara.
Ara answered on the first ring.
"The spreadsheet," said Min-Seo.
"Yes," said Ara.
"Aria. Fantasy world. Chosen hero. Soothe apartment."
"Seocho," said Ara. "I will update the secondary residence column."
"Thank you Ara."
"Min-Seo," said Ara.
"Yes."
"The variance is now at four again."
"I know."
"Same as before Aria arrived."
"Yes."
"You gave away your apartment to maintain the variance."
"I am not giving it away. It is a temporary—"
"Min-Seo."
"Yes."
"Are you okay."
Min-Seo looked at the middle section of the couch.
"Yes," said Min-Seo. "I am very okay."
Baek Suri received the news with the composed acceptance of someone who had been a minor sect martial artist her entire life and had developed a philosophical approach to unexpected developments.
"Seocho," said Baek Suri.
"Good floors," said Han-Ho.
Baek Suri looked at Aria.
Aria looked at Baek Suri.
Two young women from two different worlds who had both arrived through dimensional Gates following something and ended up in a basement apartment in Mapo-gu eating honey butter chips.
"I will show you Seoul," said Baek Suri.
"Thank you," said Aria.
"The escalators," said Baek Suri.
"What are escalators," said Aria.
Baek Suri looked at the apartment with the expression of someone who has been given a very specific and enjoyable responsibility.
"Moving stairs," said Baek Suri.
"Moving—"
"You will see," said Baek Suri. "They are extraordinary."
"Extraordinary," confirmed River from the counter.
"Everything is extraordinary," said Aria.
"Yes," said Baek Suri. "Everything is."
They went to the Seocho apartment.
The sword at Aria's hip glowed as they left.
Not toward Han-Ho this time.
Toward the door.
Toward what was ahead.
Han-Ho watched them go.
Made a note.
Aria and Baek Suri: Seocho apartment. Occupancy maintained. Variance stable at four. Route integration manageable. Note: Baek Suri is a good choice for orientation. She finds everything extraordinary. So does Aria. They will be fine.
He closed the notebook.
The apartment settled back to seven occupants.
The variance was four.
Progress.