POV: Jun-ho
Lights-out came softly.
Not with a bell or an announcement, but with a gradual dimming of sound. Doors clicked shut one by one. Laughter thinned into murmurs, then into the low hum of air conditioners and the distant crash of waves against rock.
I lay on my bed with my hands folded on my chest, staring at the dark ceiling.
The dorm room smelled faintly of salt, detergent, and the instant ramen Minjae had insisted on eating before bed. Moonlight slipped through the curtains in thin bands, painting pale lines across the floor.
I should have been tired.
Instead, my body felt alert in the way it did before a match—muscles loose, breath steady, senses tuned outward rather than inward. Like something was about to happen, even though I couldn't have said what. From somewhere outside, I heard voices.
Not laughter.
Whispers.
I turned my head slightly, careful not to move too much. Minjae lay sprawled on his bed across the room, one arm flung dramatically over his face. Somehow, he switched out with one of the other boys, and now we're roommates. Jisoo was on his side, back to me, breathing slow and even. The whispers came again.
Low. Muffled. More than one voice. Staff, maybe, I told myself. Night patrol.
Still, I listened.
The sound drifted past the dorm windows and faded. Footsteps followed—measured, unhurried. I exhaled and let my head sink back into the pillow.
You're imagining things.
That was becoming a habit.
—
I slipped out of bed quietly and crossed the room, easing the door open just enough to look into the hallway.
Empty.
The lights were dimmed, emergency strips casting a dull glow along the floor. At the far end, a stairwell door stood ajar, and darkness pooled behind it like ink. I closed the door again.
When I turned back, I saw Ara through the window across the narrow gap between dorm buildings. She sat on the edge of her bed, facing the sea. Her room lights were off, but the moon illuminated her silhouette clearly—straight back, shoulders still, hands resting loosely in her lap. She wasn't sketching. Wasn't moving at all.
Just watching the water.
For a moment, I considered tapping on the glass. Saying something. Asking if she was okay.
I didn't.
Some silences were deliberate. Intruding on them felt wrong. I returned to my bed.
—
Lying there, I let my thoughts wander—something I usually avoided. I thought about home. About my aunt's small apartment, the way my cousin used to fall asleep on the couch with his homework half-finished. About mornings when I'd wake up early to make breakfast because no one else would.
Responsibility had never felt heavy back then. It had just…been there. Natural. Like breathing.
I wondered when it had started feeling like a choice. Out here, on this island, people seemed to look to me more with each passing day. For answers. For direction. For reassurance.
Why me? I wondered.
I wasn't special. I just didn't panic. Was that really enough? Across the room, Minjae shifted and groaned. "Man. Tomorrow I'm destroying that buffet." He muttered. "Go to sleep." Jisoo stirred. "I am asleep." Minjae said, already snoring lightly.
I smiled despite myself.
The sound grounded me. Made the room feel normal again.
—
It didn't last.
A soft thump echoed from outside.
Then another.
I sat up. Jisoo did too, almost simultaneously. "You hear that?" He whispered. "Yeah." I nodded. We held still, listening. The sound came again—scraping. Like something brushing against the outer wall.
My heart rate ticked up, slow and steady. "Probably an animal." Jisoo said, though his voice lacked conviction.
"This close to the dorm?" I murmured.
Another scrape. Closer. Minjae snorted in his sleep, oblivious. I slid out of bed and moved to the window, parting the curtain just enough to peer out. The space below was dark. Trees swayed gently in the night breeze. Shadows overlapped, indistinct.
Then—A shape moved.
Not clearly. Just a shift in darkness near the treeline. Too tall to be a dog. Too slow to be a bird.
I froze.
The scraping sound came again, sharper this time, like nails dragging briefly across concrete. Jisoo swallowed audibly behind me.
"It's probably nothing." He said. I didn't answer. Whatever it was, it moved away a moment later, the sound fading into the night. Silence rushed back in, heavy and oppressive. I let the curtain fall.
"Tomorrow. We'll ask someone about the wildlife." I said quietly, more to myself than to Jisoo. Jisoo nodded, though he didn't look convinced. I lay back down, eyes open, listening to the steady breathing around me.
Outside, the sea kept crashing against the rocks, relentless and indifferent. And somewhere beyond the dorm walls, something had passed by unseen.