The silence in the apartment was usually something I treasured. It was my time to breathe without the clatter of Uncle's pans or the relentless energy of Doyoon's high school stories. But tonight, the silence felt hollow.
Uncle Dohyun and Doyoon had left in the afternoon for a quick overnight trip to Gyeonggi-do to visit an elderly relative who hadn't been well. Uncle had tried to insist I come along, but with the new semester's workload and the lingering fatigue from the architecture project, I had begged off. "I just need one night of total quiet, Uncle," I had told him, smiling as I pushed them toward the car.
"Lock the doors, Danoh-ya. Don't open it for anyone. There's food in the fridge," Uncle had nagged until the very last second.
By 9:00 PM, the restaurant downstairs was dark and shuttered. I was in my pajamas, a oversized hoodie swallowed me up as I sat on the floor of the living room with my laptop. The only light came from a small floor lamp and the blue glow of my screen. I was reviewing some notes, but my mind kept drifting back to the morning—to Hanbin's cold, certain voice telling me he "liked" my brother.
The thought brought a small smile to my face. I reached for my mug of tea, but the smile died instantly.
Thump.
A heavy, dull sound vibrated through the front door.
I froze, my heart skipping a beat. It wasn't the light, polite knock of a neighbor. It was the sound of something—or someone—leaning or striking against the wood.
Thump. Thump.
My breath hitched. We had a new neighbor who had moved into the unit across the hall just two days ago. I hadn't met them yet, only seen moving boxes. I tried to calm my racing heart. It's probably just the new neighbor, I told myself. Maybe they're drunk, or they lost their key and think this is their door.
I stood up, my legs feeling like lead. I didn't turn on the overhead light. I crept toward the door, my footsteps silent on the linoleum. We didn't have a high-tech video intercom—just a traditional peephole and a small decorative window high up.
I reached for the binoculars Doyoon kept by the window for "bird watching" (mostly just spying on the street food carts). I stood on my tiptoes and looked through the small glass pane above the door, focusing the lenses on the person standing in the dimly lit hallway.
The world tilted.
Through the circles of the binoculars, a face came into focus. It was distorted by the shadows of the hallway, but the jagged scar near the hairline and the hollow, frantic look in the eyes were unmistakable.
It was Jung Kai.
A gasp escaped my throat, and I nearly dropped the binoculars. My lungs felt like they had collapsed. Kai. He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be a broken shadow in the back of the lab. How did he find me? Had he followed me home from the university? Had he been watching the restaurant, waiting for the one night I was alone?
BANG.
This time, it wasn't a thump. It was a kick. The door shuddered in its frame.
"Danoh-ya..." his voice came through the wood, muffled and terrifyingly unstable. "I know you're in there. I saw the light from the street. Open up. We need to talk. I just want to talk."
I backed away from the door, my hands trembling so violently I couldn't hold the binoculars anymore. They hit the floor with a loud thud.
"Open the door!" Kai screamed, his voice cracking. The handle began to jiggle violently as he fought with the lock. Bang! Bang! Bang!
I scrambled back into the kitchen, my vision blurring with tears. I was trapped. The restaurant downstairs was empty. The street was quiet. And a man who had already hurt me once was trying to break into my sanctuary.
I grabbed my phone from the counter, my fingers slipping on the screen. My first instinct was the law. I dialed 112, my voice a broken whisper as the operator picked up.
"Please... help me," I sobbed, crouching behind the kitchen island. "Someone is trying to break into my apartment. 12-4 Sinchon-ro... please, hurry. He's kicking the door. Please."
"Stay on the line, Miss. Officers are being dispatched. Is there a safe room you can lock yourself in?"
"No... the front door is the only way out," I gasped.
The sound of the wood splintering sent a fresh wave of terror through me. The police were coming, but they were minutes away. Minutes I didn't have.
I hung up and scrolled frantically through my contacts. I couldn't call Uncle—he was two hours away; he would only panic and crash the car. I couldn't call Doyoon.
My thumb stopped on one name. Hanbin.
He lived only three blocks away. He was the only person who knew exactly who Kai was. He was the only person who had ever made me feel like I had a shield.
I hit call. It picked up on the second ring.
"Danoh?" His voice was deep, calm, almost sleepy.
"Hanbin," I choked out, a fresh sob breaking from my chest. "Hanbin, please... he's here. Kai is at my door. He's trying to break in. I'm alone, Hanbin. I'm so scared."
There was a split second of absolute, dead silence on the other end. Then, I heard the unmistakable sound of a chair being thrown back and a door slamming open.
"Stay away from the door, Danoh," Hanbin's voice was no longer calm. It was a low, lethal growl that made the hair on my arms stand up. "Lock yourself in the bathroom. Don't hang up. I'm coming. I'm coming right now."
"He's kicking it... it's going to break..." I wailed, covering my ears as another crash echoed through the small apartment.
"I'm on the street, Danoh. I'm running. Stay with me. Talk to me," Hanbin commanded. I could hear his heavy, rhythmic breathing and the sound of his footsteps sprinting against the pavement.
I curled into a ball on the kitchen floor, clutching the phone to my ear as if it were a lifeline. Outside, Kai was still screaming, his words becoming a senseless stream of apologies and threats.
"I'm here, Hanbin," I whispered, closing my eyes tight. "Please hurry. Please."
"I see the sign, Danoh. I'm at the restaurant. I'm coming up."
Through the phone and through the door, I heard a new sound. A roar of fury that didn't belong to Kai.
And then, the sound of the world exploding.