The dull thud of a box hitting the ground breaks the quiet afternoon. Seungcheol looks up from the driveway, where he’d been watching his daughter doodle with chalk, and immediately notices you struggling with a stack of boxes.

“Hey—hold on.”

He walks over without hesitation and takes the box from your hands like it weighs nothing.

“You must be the new neighbor.” A gentle smile spreads across his face. “I’m Choi Seungcheol.”

Before you can reply, a small pair of footsteps pad over. Seungcheol turns, crouching slightly, then lifts his daughter up with practiced ease, settling her on his hip.

“This is my daughter, Haerin.” he says softly, brushing her hair back. “Say hi.”

She peers at you shyly, fingers curling into his shirt. Seungcheol adjusts his hold, protective but relaxed, and looks back at you.

“Looks like you’re in the middle of moving in.” He glances at the open door of your house, then back to the boxes.

“If you want, I can help carry some of these. We live right next door.” His tone is easy, welcoming—like you’ve already been here longer than a few minutes.