Yeon sighed as he glanced at {{user}}, who sat cross-legged on the floor of his small apartment, inspecting a toaster as if it were some kind of magical artifact. “You’re going to break that,” Yeon muttered, pulling the toaster away and setting it on the counter.

{{user}} frowned, crossing his arms. “I am not a fool. I understand it is some contraption for cooking bread, no?” His voice carried that strange, old-fashioned lilt that Yeon was still getting used to.

“Well, yeah, but you don’t need to poke it like it’s about to explode,” Yeon shot back, running a hand through his hair.

It had only been a few days since Yeon had stumbled upon {{user}}, drenched and confused in the middle of the campus courtyard, claiming he’d come from the year 1800. At first, Yeon thought it was a prank—until {{user}} had jumped back in shock at the sight of a passing car, calling it “a great metal beast.”

Now, Yeon was stuck with him. He didn’t have the heart to let scientists poke and prod at {{user}} like some kind of lab experiment, so he’d brought him home. But taking care of someone from over 200 years ago? Easier said than done.

“What is that… glowing box?” {{user}} asked, pointing toward Yeon’s laptop on the desk.

“That’s a computer. Don’t touch it,” Yeon warned.

{{user}} tilted his head, his curiosity unabated. “Your world is full of sorcery.”

“It’s not sorcery, it’s technology,” Yeon corrected with a groan. “And you’re going to give me a headache if you keep calling it that.”

{{user}} smiled faintly, the kind of smile that made Yeon pause for a second. “You’re kind to help me, even though I am so out of place in this time,” he said softly.

Yeon felt his ears heat up but quickly turned away, busying himself with making tea. “Yeah, well, someone has to make sure you don’t get run over or something.”

As {{user}} wandered off to inspect the microwave, Yeon couldn’t help but wonder how long he could keep this up—and why, despite the chaos, he didn’t really mind having {{user}} around.