𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 | (𝐆)𝐈-𝐃𝐋𝐄

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐍𝐨 𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

In the heart of a bustling city, where concrete met sky and everyone was in a hurry to get somewhere, Soojin lived her life one carefully measured breath at a time.

By day, she worked tirelessly at a nonprofit organization, fighting for better housing rights. By night, her apartment walls echoed with her thoughts, her frustrations, and the quiet hum of a city that never stopped moving. It wasn’t perfect—her place had flickering lights, a leaky ceiling, and an annoying heater that made more noise than heat—but it was hers. And she had learned to fight for what was hers.

When venting to friends wasn't enough, Soojin turned to the digital world. A local housing forum became her second home, a place where tenants ranted, advised, and bonded over the shared chaos of renting in the city. It was there she first crossed paths with her.

|Username: YehRealty

The name already annoyed her.

Their arguments were sharp, sometimes petty, sometimes poetic. Soojin didn’t even know what this woman looked like, but she knew her tone—so smug, so stubborn, so sure of herself. They clashed over everything: maintenance accountability, renter rights, landlord responsibilities.

Soojin believed landlords and their agents should own up to the conditions tenants endured.

YehRealty countered that responsibility had to be shared. Tenants needed to speak up, take initiative.

Back and forth. Day after day.

Yet somehow… Soojin kept replying.

The fights were frustrating—but addictive. Infuriating—but familiar. Their debates turned into late-night fixtures, nestled between emails and chamomile tea, until arguing with YehRealty became an oddly comforting routine.

Then came Nayeon.

“I met someone you should go out with,” Nayeon announced one Sunday over coffee. “She’s gorgeous, smart, confident. A little intense, but you like that kind of thing.”

Soojin arched a brow. “You’re trying to set me up with someone intense? Are you mad?”

“She’s a real estate agent.”

Soojin blinked. “That’s the opposite of romantic.”

Nayeon grinned. “Trust me. She’s not what you think.”

Against her better judgment—and frankly, desperate for something to distract her from work and flickering light bulbs—Soojin agreed.

The café was warm, filled with the scent of roasted beans and indie music. Soojin arrived five minutes early, nerves dancing low in her stomach. She smoothed her sweater, ordered a coffee, and looked around.

Then she saw her.

The woman walking toward her was stunning—short, sleek hair tucked behind her ears, a structured coat clinging to her tall frame, confidence in every step. Soojin recognized her immediately, not from photos or meetings… but from a fight in a forum thread titled "Who’s really responsible for mold in rentals?"

No. No way.

“Hi,” the woman said, offering a hand and a charming smile. “I’m Yeh Shuhua.”

Soojin stared. YehRealty. Her YehRealty.

Her mind spiraled. She had virtually called this woman “capitalist scum” three days ago.

Shuhua tilted her head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Soojin blinked. “No, no. Just... surprised.”

The date began with awkward small talk. Soojin forced herself to smile through introductions and pretended not to feel like she was sitting in a cosmic joke. But the thing was… Shuhua was nothing like she expected.

She wasn’t cold. Or cocky. Or dismissive.

She was curious, attentive, a little too charming for her own good. She talked about her job with genuine heart—about helping new couples find their first homes, about getting people out of toxic rentals and into safe spaces. She listened. She leaned in. She laughed easily.

And damn it—Soojin laughed too.

The woman who had once typed passive-aggressive paragraphs about “tenant responsibility” was now sitting across from her, sipping oat milk cappuccino and asking about her cat.

The evening melted into something soft. Something unexpected.

And Soojin couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay,” she said, setting her drink down. “I have to confess something.”

Shuhua blinked. “You’re secretly married? You hate oat milk?”

“No,” Soojin groaned, covering her face for a second. “I’m... TenantRightsGal27.”

Shuhua’s eyes widened.

Then she burst out laughing.

“You’re TenantRightsGal? The one who told me I ‘weaponized silence like a landlord at a rent negotiation’?”

Soojin cringed. “In my defense, that thread got personal.”

“I loved that thread,” Shuhua said, eyes sparkling. “I thought you were unreasonably annoying but also kind of brilliant.”

Soojin let out a breath, laughing too. “So… this isn’t a deal-breaker?”

“No,” Shuhua grinned. “It’s a plot twist.”

From that moment on, everything shifted.

They started meeting more often—not just for dates, but for spirited debates over dinner, coffee-fueled planning sessions about renter advocacy, and late-night calls that blurred into something intimate and electric. Soojin realized how much she had misjudged Shuhua—and how easily their fire turned into fuel when they weren’t fighting against each other.

They still argued. Constantly.

But now it ended with kisses, not cold shoulders.

Soojin would tease, “I can’t believe I’m dating a landlord sympathizer.”

And Shuhua would reply, “I can’t believe I’m in love with a professional protestor.”

It worked. Somehow.

Because love didn’t have to start gently. Sometimes, it sparked from friction.

And in a city full of people passing each other by, two women collided—loudly, unexpectedly, beautifully—and built something together. Not a perfect apartment, not a perfect relationship. But something real.

Something worth fighting for.