t̴w̴e̴l̴v̴e̴ ̴y̴e̴a̴r̴s̴ ̴l̴a̴t̴e̴r̴
10:45 a.m.
The sun looked faded.
Like it hadn't fully woken up yet.
The light felt drained of color.
The air carried a thin, unreasonable chill.
The bus stopped with a tired hiss.
A blonde young woman stepped off carefully, backpack over her shoulders, pale hair swaying with the breeze.
She handed the driver her money.
He looked at her.
A strange look.
A second too long.
She stiffened.
She stepped down quickly.
The door shut behind her with a dry metallic clang.
The bus pulled away.
Dust lingered.
Silence followed.
This place is… strange.
She checked her phone.
No signal.
A faint frown crossed her face.
Before her stretched a pale field.
The grass looked drained, as if it hadn't been watered in years.
Plastic bags tangled in a rusted fence, rustling softly in the wind.
A crooked metal sign carried the town's name.
Several letters had eroded away.
She walked forward slowly.
Uneven pavement.
Closed windows.
Curtains that didn't move.
No one.
Except—
A young man.
He sat on the sidewalk, wearing a dark coat.
Thick black hair fell slightly over his eyes.
He was holding his phone toward the ground.
She approached, curious.
"Excuse me… is this some kind of tourist landmark?"
No response.
He kept focusing the camera.
Then slowly lowered the phone.
And turned.
Too slowly.
Their eyes met.
Her eyes were the color of the sea.
His—
Deep black.
As if light went in and didn't return.
For a moment—
The wind disappeared.
The ground felt distant.
He smiled.
Small. Calm. Confident.
"Not just an ordinary crack."
She looked down.
A thin fracture split the dry earth. Slightly crooked.
She raised a brow.
"Oh… really?"
"It looks like a map."
Her eyes widened.
"A map?"
He nodded.
"Look closely."
She leaned in, studying the lines.
A nervous laugh slipped out.
"I think that's just drought damage."
He looked at her again.
"Maybe."
She stepped back slightly.
Weird.
She adjusted her bag.
"I'm sorry, sir— I mean—"
She gave a quick awkward bow.
"Sorry for bothering you."
She turned.
Two steps—
A hand gently caught her wrist.
Not forceful.
But firm.
She froze.
His voice came from closer than it should have.
"You're not from here."
She turned slowly.
He was standing right behind her now.
Too close.
"I've never seen you before," he said calmly.
She glanced at his hand, then at his eyes.
"That's normal. I'm just visiting."
A faint smile.
"There are no tourists here."
A pause.
"You're the first one."
She let out a short, uneasy laugh.
"About that… I just—"
A little later, they were sitting on the curb.
The wind returned softly, carrying the scent of old damp soil.
She hugged her bag to her chest, speaking quickly—as if silence might swallow her.
"My flight was headed to a coastal city. I just wanted somewhere quiet. A beach. A small hotel. Morning coffee by the sea…"
She exhaled bitterly.
"Then a storm appeared out of nowhere. It wasn't even in the forecast. They said it would pass. Then everything started shaking. Visibility dropped."
He listened in silence.
"They announced an emergency landing. Said it was precautionary. But we landed at this tiny airport that barely exists. Then flights were suspended because of the weather."
She looked at him.
"I took the only bus leaving the airport. The driver said this was the nearest town."
Silence.
Then he tilted his head slightly.
"Ah… I see."
His tone was almost indulgent.
"So the plane you were on made an emergency landing because of a storm."
She nodded.
He smiled.
"Then you're… lost."
Her brows pulled together instantly.
"Can you stop smiling? It feels like you're enjoying this."
His eyes widened with exaggerated innocence.
"Enjoying it? Not at all."
But he kept smiling.
She sighed, frustration creeping in.
"I don't have enough money. I don't have a place to stay. I don't know anyone here. There's no signal. This is awful."
Her head lowered.
"I just wanted one quiet week in a seaside town. One week away from everything. Is that too much?"
She ran a hand through her hair.
"And now I'll probably spend the night on the street."
He stood abruptly.
She blinked.
"Where are you going?"
"You were looking for a hotel, right?"
She narrowed her eyes.
"I told you I don't have money. Were you even listening?"
He studied her for a moment.
Then—
"Come with me. I know a suitable place."
She froze.
"Really?"
He nodded.
She jumped up, overly fast.
"That's amazing— I mean, thank you! Thank you so much!"
She hurried beside him, then paused.
"Oh. We didn't introduce ourselves."
She pointed to herself.
"I'm Soren."
He smiled faintly.
"Lucian."
She hesitated.
"Just Lucian?"
"Just Lucian."
They walked through the quiet street.
The town felt—
Too silent.
Shops closed.
Windows shut.
No cars.
No children laughing.
"Is it always like this?" she asked.
"Like what?"
"Empty."
He thought for a second.
"It's not a tourist destination."
"Obviously."
She glanced around.
"How many people live here?"
"Two hundred and seventeen."
She blinked.
"You answered fast."
"I know this town well."
"Were you born here?"
"You could say that."
"Could?"
He smiled without explaining.
She kept asking questions.
"Where's the nearest store?"
"How far is the hospital?"
"Is there a train station?"
He answered with unsettling precision.
No hesitation.
As if he had memorized every inch of it.
A faint chill crawled up her arms.
"You know it like you're—"
She stopped.
"Like I'm what?"
She shook her head.
"Nothing."
He stopped in front of a two-story building.
The facade was faded, but the windows were clean.
He pulled a key from his pocket.
"Here."
She stared.
"A hotel?"
"An empty apartment."
He unlocked the door. They climbed wooden stairs that creaked softly beneath their steps.
He opened a door on the second floor.
A small apartment.
But neat.
A bed.
A sofa.
A small kitchen.
A window overlooking the street.
She stepped inside slowly.
"Is this… real?"
He handed her the key.
"You can stay here temporarily."
She turned to him, her face lighting up.
"Really? It's for me?"
He nodded.
She almost hugged him, but stopped herself.
"Thank you. Really, Lucian. You saved me."
He waved it off lightly.
"Enjoy your stay."
Then, calmly—
"If you need anything… I'm here."
He left.
The door closed.
Silence settled inside the apartment.
Soren stood in the middle of the room, holding the key. Her heartbeat slowly steadied.
"Maybe… today wasn't completely terrible."
She walked to the window.
She saw him crossing the street.
He didn't turn around.
She finally locked the door behind her.
Silence settled.
But not the comforting kind.
She stood in the middle of the apartment, staring at the faded walls.
A faint old smell lingered.
Damp wood.
And something else.
Something she couldn't name.
"Don't be dramatic, Soren," she muttered to herself.
"It's just an old apartment."
She stepped into the bathroom.
Turned on the water.
The shower roared to life, steam rising quickly.
She stood beneath it, eyes closed, letting the warmth run through her blonde hair, down her shoulders.
Then—
A soft noise.
Like something shifting behind the wall.
Her eyes snapped open.
She listened.
Nothing.
"Rats."
She said it firmly. Like she was issuing an order to her own brain.
"Old apartment equals rats. End of story."
She stepped back under the water, ignoring the chill creeping along her spine.
A few minutes later, she came out, towel wrapped around her hair, dressed in comfortable clothes.
She dropped onto the couch.
"This day…"
She reached into her bag and began unpacking.
Hairbrush.
Book.
Small notebook.
Charger.
Perfume bottle.
She arranged everything neatly.
As if proving to herself that she was in control.
Then she checked her phone.
Still no signal.
She sighed.
And then—
The noise returned.
Louder this time.
From the kitchen.
She froze.
Quickly, she shoved her earbuds in.
"I don't hear anything. There is nothing."
She hit play.
Loud music burst into her ears.
A song by **** — her favorite group for years.
The heavy beat filled her head.
She nodded along.
Then suddenly stood up with exaggerated energy.
"Okay! Cleaning time!"
She grabbed a cloth and started wiping the table, singing loudly, completely butchering the Korean lyrics.
"Soren, you're a stage star!"
She lifted the broom like a microphone.
Spun in place.
Imagined lights flashing.
Crowds screaming.
In her mind—
She was dancing on stage beside her favorite idol, laughing as he held her hand.
She burst out laughing at herself.
"I'm insane…"
But she liked it.
She liked drowning out every uncomfortable sound with her own imagination.
By the time she finished, the apartment looked slightly cleaner.
And her chest felt lighter.
Evening arrived slowly.
Soft orange light slipped through the window.
She went to the kitchen for water.
Opened the fridge.
Paused.
There was food inside.
A juice box.
Wrapped bread.
A simple meal.
She stared.
"Was this here before?"
She tried to remember.
"Maybe Lucian left it."
A small smile.
"That's… nice."
She ate quickly.
Then decided to take another short shower. Just to relax.
The water felt warmer this time.
Softer.
She sank into the bathtub for a while, steam curling around her, blonde hair resting over her shoulders.
She thought about the town.
The crack in the ground shaped like a map.
His calm smile.
And the park—
The thought froze halfway.
"No," she whispered.
She didn't want to go back there.
She stepped out, changed into light pajamas, hair still damp.
She didn't even make it to the bed.
She collapsed onto the couch instead.
Exhaustion weighed heavier than thought.
She turned off the lights.
Darkness swallowed the room slowly.
Minutes passed.
Her breathing deepened.
She fell asleep.