The hallway was quiet, too quiet. The kind of silence that wasn't natural, like the air itself was holding its breath. Ji-hoon's footsteps echoed sharply against the walls, each step feeling like it carried more weight than the last. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a steady rhythm that matched the anticipation building within him.
He had been walking for what felt like hours, but the hallway seemed endless, stretching forward with no clear end in sight. The lights overhead flickered intermittently, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to crawl along the floor, chasing him. It was as if the hallway itself was alive, watching him, waiting.
Joon-won had stayed behind, his presence a steady comfort, but Ji-hoon needed to be alone for this. He needed to face the truth, to hear what was hidden in the darkness that stretched ahead of him. The truth about his past, his mother, and everything that had led him here.
He had come to this place for answers. But the closer he got to them, the more the walls seemed to close in. The truth was something he feared, something that could tear apart everything he thought he knew. But there was no turning back now.
A cold gust of air swept down the hallway, making Ji-hoon stop in his tracks. His breath caught in his throat, the chill seeping into his bones. He could feel it then — the unmistakable presence of something... someone. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and his fingers instinctively curled into fists.
"Who's there?" Ji-hoon called, his voice surprisingly steady despite the tension coiling in his chest. The question was met with nothing but the soft hum of the flickering lights, the silence stretching long and unnerving.
Then, from somewhere in the distance, came a voice.
It was faint at first, barely a whisper, like a breath caught in the wind. But it grew louder, clearer, until it echoed through the hallway, reverberating off the walls.
"Ji-hoon…" The voice was familiar, but distorted, like it had been dragged through time, twisted into something unrecognizable. It carried with it a weight, a sadness that Ji-hoon couldn't ignore.
He froze, his pulse racing. He knew that voice. He had heard it before. It was her. His mother. Or at least, the voice that haunted him in his dreams.
"Mom?" he whispered, his throat tight as he took a tentative step forward. His hands were trembling, but he ignored it, focusing on the voice, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this was the answer he had been searching for.
"Ji-hoon, you have to listen…" The voice drifted again, coming from the farthest end of the hallway. It sounded almost pleading, like it was desperate to be heard. "You don't understand… none of you do."
"Where are you?" Ji-hoon's voice cracked as he called out again. The fear, the desperation, it clawed at him, pulling him deeper into the hallway, into the darkness that seemed to stretch endlessly before him.
And then the voice came again, only this time it wasn't just a whisper. It was clear, unmistakable, carrying a weight of sorrow and regret that sent a chill down Ji-hoon's spine.
"You have to stop him, Ji-hoon," the voice warned, shaking with emotion. "He's coming for you. He's always been coming for you."
"Who?" Ji-hoon asked, his words barely a breath. His head spun, confusion and panic clawing at him, but he couldn't stop moving. He had to know. "Who's coming?"
But the voice didn't answer immediately. There was a long pause, the silence almost unbearable, before it finally returned, softer, almost inaudible.
"The one who wants everything… the one who has always been watching."
Ji-hoon's breath caught. His hands clenched at his sides, and his heart raced even faster, pounding in his ears. "Si-wan," he breathed, the name slipping from his lips like a curse. He had known this moment was coming. He had felt it deep within him, but hearing it now, out loud, made it all too real.
The voice responded, now tinged with fear. "You mustn't let him in. You mustn't let him control you. It's too late for me, but not for you…"
A sharp gasp escaped Ji-hoon's lips, the weight of her words settling on him. His legs felt like they were turning to stone, but still, he couldn't stop. He needed to hear more.
The voice grew fainter now, the words harder to make out. "The key is in his hands… in his hands… you have to take it… you have to stop him…"
"Wait!" Ji-hoon cried out, his voice desperate now. "Mom, please! What key? What do I need to do?"
But the voice had already faded. The last remnants of her words, like a broken melody, echoed in his mind, leaving him standing alone in the hall, his hands trembling.
He was still. His breath came in ragged gasps, his pulse pounding in his ears. His mind raced, trying to piece together what he had just heard. The key. The hands. Stop Si-wan.
His mother's voice had come to him, not with the clarity of the past, but in a way that felt hauntingly familiar, as if it was trying to warn him of something that was just out of reach. Was this the answer he had been searching for all along? Was this the truth he needed to face?
But as the silence pressed in once more, Ji-hoon knew one thing for certain — the game was far from over. The truth was closer now than it had ever been, but it was also more dangerous. Si-wan wasn't done yet. And neither was Ji-hoon.
With a final glance down the hallway, he turned and walked away, his mind reeling from the encounter. There was no time to waste. The pieces were falling into place, but the key to unlocking them was something he still couldn't quite grasp. He could feel it in his bones — the answers were out there, but they were slipping through his fingers like sand.
As he made his way back to where Joon-won waited, the weight of his mother's warning pressed heavy on his chest. She had been right about one thing — he couldn't let Si-wan control him. Not now, not ever.
The hallway, once so suffocating, now felt like a distant memory. But the voice still lingered, echoing in his thoughts, a reminder that the fight was only just beginning.
Ji-hoon's footsteps echoed louder now, or maybe they were just in his head, the sound becoming a drumbeat that drowned out everything else. His heart, still racing from the encounter, kept pace with each step. His mother's voice, so clear and yet so distant, clung to him like a shadow, refusing to be shaken off. The weight of her words lingered in his chest, pressing down, suffocating him with the enormity of what she had said.
"The key is in his hands…"
He could feel the words pulling at him, unraveling something deep inside. But the answer, elusive as it was, refused to come. What key? What had she meant? And who was this "him" — Si-wan, of course, but the connection between them, the path between the pieces of the puzzle, was blurred, fuzzy, incomplete. His mother's voice had been pleading, desperate. And now, it was as if he could hear her fading, a fragment of the past he couldn't reach. A warning, perhaps, or a final cry for help — but from whom? And for what?
As Ji-hoon turned the corner, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes caught something. Just ahead, at the end of the hallway, he saw a figure standing by the window. The silhouette was familiar, but the darkness of the hallway distorted the details, making it harder to make out the face. Was it his imagination? Or was someone really there?
His steps faltered. His gut twisted in uncertainty.
"Joon-won?" he called out softly, his voice tentative as he tried to ignore the growing unease within him.
The figure didn't move, didn't acknowledge him. Ji-hoon felt the air grow thicker with each passing second, suffocating him, making his chest tighten.
"Joon-won," he repeated, louder this time, his hands instinctively reaching out as if to grab hold of the air itself, desperate to make sense of the surreal moment unfolding before him.
Suddenly, the figure turned, and the light from the flickering hallway overhead illuminated a familiar face — a face he hadn't seen in days. But it wasn't Joon-won. No, it was someone else entirely.
His breath hitched in his throat as recognition slammed into him. Seol-ah.
Seol-ah, the mysterious girl from his past, the one who had slipped through his fingers and into the shadows. The one who had haunted his dreams with her silence, her presence, the way she had vanished without a trace. The girl who had once been an enigma in his life, now standing before him like a ghost from the past.
"Seol-ah?" he breathed, his voice trembling.
She didn't answer. She simply stood there, her eyes locked on his with an unreadable expression, a gaze that seemed to pierce through him, making him feel exposed, like she knew everything about him and wasn't willing to share it.
"Why are you here?" Ji-hoon finally asked, his voice thick with confusion, as the words spilled out before he could stop them.
Seol-ah took a step forward, her movements slow and deliberate. Her long hair cascaded down her back, a dark curtain that seemed to hold the weight of secrets within it. The shadows around her clung to her, making it harder to decipher the emotion behind her unreadable expression.
Her lips parted, but no words came. It was as if the very air between them had become too thick for her to speak.
"I don't… I don't understand," Ji-hoon said, his chest tightening with frustration. "Where have you been? Why did you disappear? You were—" He cut himself off, his heart heavy with the words left unspoken. He didn't even know what to say. What was she doing here? Had she known all along?
Finally, Seol-ah spoke, her voice so soft that Ji-hoon had to strain to hear it. "I was trying to protect you."
The words hit him like a blow. "Protect me? From what?"
Her gaze faltered for a moment, and Ji-hoon could see something flicker in her eyes — regret? Guilt? A fleeting glimpse of something that she wasn't letting him see. But before he could press her further, she spoke again, her voice low but filled with an undeniable urgency.
"You don't know everything, Ji-hoon," she said, her eyes darting around the hallway as if she was afraid someone might overhear. "Si-wan… he's more dangerous than you realize."
"I know," Ji-hoon whispered, the weight of her words settling deep within him. "But why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you warn me sooner?" His voice cracked on the last word, a wave of emotion flooding him. Wasn't she supposed to be the one person who understood? The one who had known him before all this? Why had she kept her distance? Why had she disappeared?
Seol-ah shook her head, her eyes full of sorrow. "I couldn't… I couldn't tell you everything. Not then. Not when you were still so innocent, so…" She hesitated, her words trailing off. She seemed to be searching for the right ones, but they never came.
Ji-hoon stepped closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "What are you talking about? What does Si-wan want from me?"
Seol-ah looked down, her gaze momentarily losing its focus. She opened her mouth as though to speak, but no words came. For a long moment, the silence between them stretched painfully, suffocating Ji-hoon.
Then, with a voice barely above a whisper, Seol-ah spoke. "He's always been watching you, Ji-hoon. From the moment you were born."
His stomach lurched. He felt like the ground had shifted beneath his feet. "What? What are you talking about?"
Seol-ah took a shaky breath, her hands gripping the fabric of her coat like she was trying to hold herself together. "There's something you don't know. Something about your mother… something Si-wan has been after for years."
The air around them seemed to grow colder, and Ji-hoon felt his breath catch in his throat. "My mother?" he repeated, his voice barely audible.
Seol-ah's eyes met his, and there was a quiet sorrow in her gaze. "It's not over. Not for any of us. Si-wan will do anything to get what he wants. And you… you're the key."
Ji-hoon felt his heart drop into his stomach. The key. It was always about the key. But what did that even mean?
"I need you to trust me," Seol-ah whispered, her eyes wide with urgency. "You need to stop him before it's too late."