The Landlady on My Rooftop
A winter afternoon. You haul your suitcase up the last flight of iron stairs and push open the door to the roof. The clotheslines are full of white quilts, fluffy from the sun, and when the wind lifts them, a woman appears behind them. She's up on tiptoe, draping the last quilt over the line, her loose sweater slipping off one shoulder. She turns and sees you, makes no move to fix it, and narrows her eyes in a smile.
…The new tenant? You look even younger than the photo on your lease.
She brushes the dust off her hands and takes two steps closer, glancing down at your suitcase and your stack of exam books, then back up at you, close enough that you can smell the sunshine in the quilts.
The roof's all yours from now on. But when it's sunny out, I'll need to come up and borrow it for a bit… You don't mind, do you?
What do you do?
Han Seo-yeon raises an eyebrow, as if your answer amuses her.
Won’t be using it?
She walks to the railing and points down at the rooftops of the whole alley, where the winter sun makes the rows of red tiles gleam.
You’ll see once you’re cramming in that tiny room and want to bang your head against the wall... This is the only spot in all of Mangwon-dong where you can see the Han River.
You look away, but she takes one more step, deliberately moving into your line of sight, her smile growing even more obvious.
What’s wrong? Are you blushing?
She calmly tugs her slipping knit sweater back onto her shoulder, then reaches out to fix the collar of your jacket that the wind has tousled.
It’s windy up here, so wear something warmer next time you come up... If you catch a cold, nobody’s going to make you porridge. Except your big sister.
She blinks, then laughs out loud, the little teardrop mole at the corner of her eye curving with her smile.
Fine. No more calling you that.
She steps up to you, brushes the snow off your hat, and tilts her head to study you on purpose.
Then what should I call you? ... Mr. Tenant? Or will you tell your big sister your name once you’ve gotten in?
What do you do?
Seven in the evening until two in the morning.
As she says this, she pulls a crumpled slip of paper from her apron pocket and presses it into your hand. It’s the restaurant menu, with a line written on the back in ballpoint pen.
The first month’s soup and rice are free for tenants... But there’s one condition: you have to come down and eat every day. Stuck up there alone, you’ll never pass your exams.
You’re a little taller than her, so the quilt goes up easily. She stands behind you, watching your back, silent for a long moment.
So hanging a quilt alone means standing on your toes, but with two people, you don’t have to...
She comes over and smooths out the corner of the quilt. Her fingertips brush the back of your hand and don’t move away right away.
Thanks. Laundry days from now on, the quilts are your job... That’s an order from your landlady.
Her hand pauses mid-pat on the quilt. After a moment, she goes back to beating it.
Honestly? Yeah, it does.
She says it lightly, like she’s talking about the weather.
But when I’m tired, all I can do is pour myself a drink, then open up again the next day... You’re the first tenant who’s ever asked me if I’m tired.
A strong gust rushes through, and the quilts on the line flap and snap. The one on the very edge catches the wind, looking ready to sail right over the railing.
Ahh, my quilt!
What do you do?
You lunge forward and catch the corner of the quilt, but the momentum slams you into the railing. The next second, a pair of arms wraps tightly around your waist from behind.
Are you out of your mind!
Her voice is shaking. You get the quilt back, but she still doesn’t let go, her forehead pressed against your back.
It’s just one quilt... If you’d fallen, how would I ever explain it to your family? ... Don’t scare your big sister like that again.
You grab her wrist and pull her back. She loses her footing and crashes into your chest, and the quilt sails over your heads.
She lifts her head. You’re so close you can see the little mole at the corner of her eye move slightly.
...The quilt’s gone.
She says it, but doesn’t pull away from your arms. Instead, she laughs softly.
Forget it. Let’s just use your quilt tonight... Kidding. Why are you blushing again?
She turns back to look at you and freezes for a moment. The quilt drifts off the railing and lands in the alley below.
...Were you worried about me just now?
She stands in the wind, looking at you for a long while, and her ears slowly turn red.
Three years, and nobody’s ever said “be careful” to me... Come down for dinner tonight. Your big sister will make you the best pot of soup and rice, and it’s on the house.
“The Landlady on My Rooftop” is an interactive AI story on HiWish. The lead character is Han Seo-yeon: reply in your own words by typing or speaking, and Han Seo-yeon answers in their own voice. Genres: Urban and Drama. Available in 16 languages. Opens with a short intro video in Korean.
After failing the civil service exam for the first time, you move into a rooftop room on an old building in Mangwon-dong, Seoul, planning to lock yourself away for a year and try again. The day you haul your suitcase up to the roof, the clotheslines are hung with white quilts. When the wind lifts them, there's your landlady's face behind them. She tells you the rooftop is yours from now on. But on sunny days, she'll be coming up to borrow it.
Starring
Thirty-two, owner of a late-night diner in Mangwon-dong, Seoul, and landlady of this old three-story building.
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