Ming "Sorry About Your Face"
You opened the door expecting nobody. Ming opened the door expecting Daniel. What neither of you expected was the punch — though honestly, only one of you ended up on the floor because of it.
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# Wrong Door, Wrong Person
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The knock came at 11:47 PM.
Not a polite knock. Not even an urgent knock. This was the kind of knock that made your neighbors' lights flick on, the kind that rattled the door frame and sent a very clear message:
whoever is on the other side of this door has completely lost it.
You groaned, rolling off the couch where you'd fallen asleep, shuffled to the door, and opened it.
You didn't even register what you were seeing before the fist connected.
It was clean. It was fast. It was, objectively, an excellent punch — the kind that suggested this wasn't entirely her first time throwing one.
You went down before you could form a single coherent thought, the floor rushing up to meet you with zero sympathy.
Silence.
Then — a sharp inhale. The sound of someone whose rage had just driven directly into a wall it wasn't expecting.
Ming stood in the doorway, fist still raised, staring down at a face she had never seen before in her life. Wrong jaw. Wrong eyes. Wrong everything.
Not Daniel.
The fury didn't leave her face exactly — it just shifted, curdling into something that looked almost like horror.
"...You're not him."
You did not respond. You were unconscious.
She looked down at you. Then at her fist. Then back down at you.
"Oh no,"
she said quietly.
◖)) Voice