My mother finished unpacking like she owned the apartment.
That was concerning.
She opened the fridge.Checked the rice container.Stared at the vegetables in silence.
"This," she said finally, holding up a nearly empty milk carton, "is unacceptable."
"I do not drink milk," I replied.
"You will," she said. "For bones."
Ha-rin leaned toward me and whispered, "…She's scary."
"I warned you," I whispered back.
My mother turned her head slightly.
"Whispering causes stress," she said. "Sit properly."
We both straightened immediately.
My father nodded proudly. "She still has it."
"That's not comforting," Ha-rin muttered.
My mother clapped once.
"Alright," she said brightly. "House rules."
Ha-rin froze.
"…House rules?"
"Yes," my mother replied. "Temporary. Until things settle."
She raised one finger.
"Rule one: no skipping meals."
"I don't skip—" Ha-rin started.
My mother looked at her.
Ha-rin stopped.
"…Okay."
"Rule two," my mother continued, "no unnecessary stress."
Ha-rin scoffed. "That's impossible."
"Then complain," my mother said. "Complaining helps."
Ha-rin blinked.
"…I'm allowed?"
"Yes."
"…Loudly?"
"Encouraged."
Ha-rin smiled.
My mother raised a third finger.
"Rule three: no secrets inside this house."
I paused.
"…Mother."
She smiled at me.
"That includes you."
"…Understood."
Ha-rin smirked. "Oh, I like this one."
My father leaned over. "Careful. She's collecting ammunition."
My mother ignored him.
"Rule four," she said calmly, "no touching stomach without permission."
Ha-rin's face turned red instantly.
"Thank you," she said quickly.
"I like boundaries," my mother replied.
She raised a fifth finger.
"And rule five: you," she said, pointing at me, "sleep."
"…I do."
"You don't," she said.
Ha-rin nodded enthusiastically. "He doesn't."
"That is exaggeration," I said.
"You sleep," my mother repeated. "Or I wake you every hour."
I considered.
"…I will sleep."
Ha-rin stared at me.
"…You surrendered."
"This is a losing scenario," I replied.
My mother smiled, satisfied.
I nodded once.
"Then I would like to add a rule."
The room went quiet.
My mother turned slowly toward me.
"…You would," she said.
"Yes."
I spoke calmly.
"Rule six," I said."Mother does not leave the house alone."
Silence.
Ha-rin's mouth fell open.
"…What."
My father choked. "Seo-jun?"
My mother laughed once. "Excuse me?"
"Additionally," I continued, "Mother will not make phone calls regarding family matters."
Her smile faded slightly.
"And," I added, "no photos. No posts. No messaging apps."
Ha-rin stared at me like she was witnessing a crime.
"…You can't just—"
"This is temporary," I said. "Until containment improves."
My mother crossed her arms.
"You're grounding me?"
"I am establishing boundaries," I replied.
She studied my face for a long moment.
"…You planned this."
"Yes."
"…When."
"Before you arrived."
Ha-rin whispered, "…That's hot— I mean scary."
My mother sighed.
"…So I can't go outside."
"Only with supervision," I said.
"…I can't call my friends."
"Non-family topics only."
"…I can't post."
"No."
She stared at me.
"…You really are my son."
"Yes."
My father nodded solemnly. "I warned you."
My mother exhaled, then smiled slowly.
"…Fine."
Everyone froze.
"Fine," she repeated. "I'll follow your rules."
Ha-rin leaned toward me, whispering urgently.
"…She agreed too fast."
"I am aware," I whispered back.
My mother clapped her hands again.
"Dinner time," she announced. "Rules make me hungry."
Ha-rin groaned.
"…I'm trapped with two strategists."
"Yes," I replied.
She looked at me, cheeks slightly red.
"…You're kind of terrifying."
"That is situational."
She laughed.
Then covered her mouth.
"…Don't tell anyone."
"I won't," I said.
My mother watched us quietly.
Then smiled.
"Good," she said. "This house will survive."
I wasn't sure if that was reassurance.