Chapter 13: Across the Hall

So-won stared at the grandly built house and recalled a story he had once seen on the internet.

It said that the reason Tae-woo didn’t live in an apartment was because he might accidentally bring the whole building down.

He hadn’t asked Tae-woo directly, so he didn’t know if it was true, but So-won remembered something he’d seen on the news before.

When a monster had just begun to escape from a Gate that opened in the city, Tae-woo had collapsed a high-rise apartment onto the monster’s head with a single punch.

That scene had even been broadcast as a video, and the entire nation had watched it.

After that, Tae-woo had been viciously condemned.

All because he had destroyed an apartment building—one that had already been fully evacuated and empty.

If the enormous monster that had come out of the Gate had gone on a rampage, the damage would have been incomparable to a single apartment building, but no one seemed inclined to think that far.

Tae-woo was simply criticized.

For the crime of saving people.

So-won paused in front of the front door, took a breath, and pressed the doorbell.

Tae-woo had given him the password, but since this was still his first visit, So-won thought it was only polite to ring the bell before entering.

After a short wait, the door swung open.

On the other side stood Tae-woo, his expression blunt and unreadable.

“Hello.”

Startled into suddenly facing Tae-woo without warning, So-won bowed hastily as if greeting him were merely an excuse.

So-won was still afraid of Tae-woo.

He wasn’t yet comfortable enough to face him up close without feeling anything at all.

Still, at least his body didn’t stiffen so badly that he couldn’t move, like last time.

That’s a relief.

With time, he could feel his fear of Tae-woo slowly being overcome.

“I will show you to your room.”

As soon as he stepped inside, the familiar interior greeted So-won.

The clean, monochrome space of white, gray, and black looked somewhat sparse, furnished only with what was strictly necessary and no decorative elements.

The living room ceiling was open and connected to the second floor, giving the space a refreshing sense of height rather than any feeling of confinement.

The familiar air—along with the faint scent of Tae-woo—made it feel oddly comforting.

So-won followed Tae-woo up to the second floor.

Based on the staircase, So-won’s room used to be on the left.

He naturally turned toward where his room had been, but Tae-woo, walking ahead, guided him in the opposite direction.

Startled, So-won looked back and forth between where his room used to be and the direction Tae-woo was heading.

“You will stay here.”

The room Tae-woo led him to was directly across from Tae-woo’s own room.

Having no choice but to follow, So-won wore a confused expression.

When the door opened, he saw the boxes containing the luggage he had sent earlier that morning, neatly stacked inside the room.

Did I remember it wrong?

Originally, So-won’s room and Tae-woo’s room had been the farthest apart.

Now, they were the closest.

Unable to hold it in, So-won finally asked.

“Where is your room, Tae-woo?”

“Across from yours.”

Tae-woo casually pointed to the room beside them.

So-won was shocked.

No matter how he thought about it, he couldn’t understand why the room arrangement had changed.

“Do you dislike it?”

“No!

I like it!”

Seeing So-won’s less-than-enthusiastic reaction, Tae-woo asked.

So-won shook his head so violently it felt exaggerated even to himself.

It was such an awkward response that even a passing child could have seen it was a lie.

Well, it wasn’t as if living with a monster would ever feel good.

Tae-woo decided to give So-won some space so he could relax, even a little.

“Please rest comfortably.”

Tae-woo turned and went into his own room.

Only after his door closed completely did So-won finally look around his room.

The size and shape hadn’t changed, but the positions of the window and the door had, making everything feel unfamiliar.

And knowing that Tae-woo’s room was directly across made him more cautious about being in the room—about every single movement.

Dinner was prepared downstairs at the time Tae-woo had told him.

Warm, freshly made food awaited him in the kitchen.

In Tae-woo’s house, a cook came at fixed times to prepare meals, and in the past, Tae-woo and So-won had eaten separately at different times.

One serving.

Looking down at the food set on the table, So-won felt relieved.

Thankfully, it seemed they still weren’t eating together.

So-won didn’t yet have the courage to eat while looking at Tae-woo’s face.

If he saw those dark red veins, he would be so tense that the food wouldn’t go down at all.

As he ate the familiar-tasting dishes, So-won recalled the first day he had come to Tae-woo’s house.

He had shut himself in his room for days without eating, and one day, a sandwich had been placed in front of his door.

Even after eight years, So-won still occasionally thought about that sandwich.

Bread that was neither warm nor cold but pleasantly moist, lettuce and tomatoes, and a sweet-and-sour sauce.

The ingredients had been simple, but it was the most delicious sandwich So-won had ever eaten in his life.

After that, though, most meals were Korean food, and sandwiches never appeared again.

Thinking about it after so long made So-won swallow reflexively.

Coming back to Tae-woo’s house made him crave that sandwich again.

With the sandwich on his mind, So-won finished his meal completely.

Even without it, all the dishes on the table suited his taste.

He roughly tidied up, then opened the refrigerator out of habit and took out a bottle of water.

Nothing in this house had changed in eight years.

Thanks to that, even after returning to the past, So-won knew exactly where everything was.

Shaking the bottle in his hand, So-won headed back to his room.

His steps felt light.

All the worries he’d had before coming here seemed pointless—he felt perfectly fine.

The painful memories from the past didn’t surface much, and he didn’t feel depressed.

Only the inexplicably changed room layout and the fact that Tae-woo was now so close bothered him slightly.

As he entered the room, he accidentally closed the door too hard.

It made a fairly loud noise, but So-won didn’t pay it much attention.

That was one of the good things about Tae-woo’s house.

It was so well soundproofed that neither outside noise nor sounds from inside carried well.

Sometimes, that fact became a drawback.

The house was so quiet it felt like being left alone in the world—perfect for sinking into gloomy thoughts—but it also failed to warn So-won when Tae-woo came home.

Because of that, So-won sometimes ran around carefree without realizing Tae-woo was there, only to run into him staring down at him frighteningly, sending So-won fleeing back to his room in panic.

When that happened, Tae-woo would soon leave the house again.

The fear from those moments was still vivid.

But now, all So-won felt was endless guilt.

It felt as if he had driven Tae-woo away even from the house that should have been his refuge.

How had Tae-woo lived during the eight years So-won had been his guide?

Even at the Association, where Tae-woo had a private room, he was treated like a monster that no one welcomed.

And even the one space that had belonged to him had been taken away by So-won.

Maybe that was why he had gone into Gates more and more often.

Because monsters should stay with monsters.

***

While organizing his belongings, So-won suddenly realized how much time had passed.

Midnight was already approaching.

‘I’ve only unpacked about half of it.’

Since he’d started by taking everything out of the boxes, the floor was a mess.

So-won swept his eyes over the cluttered room and shook his head.

It was too late for today.

It would be better to wash up and finish organizing tomorrow.

He deliberately turned away from the chaos his room had become.

So-won headed to the bathroom located halfway down the hallway on the same floor.

The interior was so pristine it looked as if it had never been used, comparable to an expensive hotel.

He filled the large bathtub opposite the entrance with water.

The tub, sized as if made for Tae-woo’s body, was twice as large and deep as a normal one.

It was So-won’s favorite feature of Tae-woo’s house, since he loved soaking in warm water.

Once he’d grown a bit used to the place in the past, he would always fill the tub and relax whenever Tae-woo wasn’t home.

“Ah….”

As he submerged himself in the warm water, a satisfied sound slipped from So-won’s lips.

The fatigue of the day melted away at once.

His eyes, worn from days of poor sleep, grew drowsy.

He felt good.

For some reason, he felt like he could sleep deeply tonight without having a nightmare.

By the time his hands and feet were wrinkled, So-won drained the tub.

He watched regretfully as the water level gradually dropped, then reluctantly stood up.

As he dried himself with a soft white towel, So-won met his own gaze in the mirror.

His face, washed clean from head to toe in preparation for a good night’s sleep, looked bright, as if a light had been turned on.

Having eaten well, his cheeks even looked fuller than usual.

So-won smiled in satisfaction.

Tonight, he really felt like he wouldn’t have a nightmare.

Back in his room, So-won buried himself in the plush bedding.

His whole body felt fresh and dry.

The pleasant scent of the expensive body lotion from the bathroom lingered around him.

The blanket wrapped him softly, and cool air flowed from the ceiling-mounted air conditioner, making even the air comfortable.

It was the perfect environment for sleep.

So-won closed his eyes.

Not long after, he opened them again in a rush.

With his eyelids shut, his vision should have been pitch black, but somehow it felt like he could see something.

Uneasily blinking, he told himself it must be his imagination and closed his eyes again—only to open them once more moments later.

So-won tossed and turned for a long time.

He still couldn’t fall asleep.

He’d thought coming here would make everything better, but that had all been an illusion.

The moment Tae-woo died, the operating room filled with blood—those images continued to follow So-won relentlessly.