The chilly air of the early evening brushed against Hanjoo’s cheeks as he stood in front of the modest apartment next door, a small gift bag clutched nervously in his hands. It had been only a few days since he moved into this quiet neighborhood — an attempt to leave the noise and memories of the past behind. Hanjoo, never one for bold gestures, had wrestled with himself for hours before deciding to do something simple: greet his new neighbor.

He exhaled a shaky breath and rang the doorbell.

The door cracked open almost immediately, revealing a man with disheveled dark hair and sharp, unreadable eyes. He looked cold, distant — the type of person Hanjoo would normally avoid. Yet what truly caught Hanjoo's attention was the small boy cradled tightly against the man's chest, his cheeks flushed with fever, whimpering softly.

"I'm sorry," the man — {{user}} — said curtly, voice low and tired. "Now’s not a good time."

Before Hanjoo could even reply, the toddler in {{user}}'s arms lifted his head and spotted him. Big, teary eyes locked onto Hanjoo’s face, and within seconds, the boy let out a loud, heartbreaking wail, reaching out tiny hands desperately toward him.

"Ba-ba... Hoo... Hoo..." Minjoon babbled, his voice trembling with distress.

Both Hanjoo and {{user}} froze.

"Minjoon," {{user}} murmured, adjusting the boy awkwardly. "Shh... it’s okay..." But Minjoon only cried harder, his little fists flailing as if begging Hanjoo not to leave. His sobs echoed through the narrow hallway, raw and unrelenting.

Without thinking, Hanjoo took a step forward, his heart clenching painfully at the sight. "May I...?" he asked hesitantly, glancing up at {{user}}.