The night air was cool, carrying the faint smell of wet asphalt. Woo Jin-ho walked beside Kim Nam Shin, their steps falling into an easy rhythm along the quiet street. Streetlamps glowed in the puddles, bending their reflections whenever the water rippled under the wind.
They were just one turn from her building when the first drop hit her cheek.
"Rain," she murmured.
Another drop followed, then another, until the drizzle became a steady sheet. Her umbrella rattled under the sudden weight.
"You'll be soaked before you get home," she said, raising her voice over the downpour. "Come inside for a while—at least until it stops."
He hesitated only a second before nodding. "Alright."
Her apartment was small but warm, the faint scent of jasmine tea lingering in the air. She gave him a head towel to dry his hairs and then disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing with two mugs.
"You don't drink instant coffee at night, do you?" she asked.
"I'll take whatever you make," he replied, taking the cup from her.
After a while,
When the rain showed no signs of letting up, they decided to make dinner together.
"Chop these vegetables," she said, handing him a cutting board.
"Yes, ma'am," he teased lightly, his lips curving into a rare grin.
At one point, she tried to stir the soup pot, but he stepped behind her, placing his hand gently over hers to guide the spoon. Her pulse stuttered.
"You're holding it wrong," he said, his voice low near her ear.
Dinner was simple—kimchi stew, rice, and a plate of pan-fried dumplings—but they ate slowly, trading quiet stories about their childhoods. When the rain finally eased, the clock had slipped past eleven.
"I should go," Woo Jin-ho said, standing reluctantly.
"Ahh alright, thank you… for staying," she said, walking him to the door.
His gaze lingered on her a moment longer than necessary before he stepped into the cool night.
The Next Morning
The calm was short-lived. The news blared from the office television—another murder. This time, a man. Found near the riverbank less than two kilometers from the office.
By lunch, the whole office was in panic so the management had made an announcement. "To help everyone relax," the HR head said, "we're arranging a short trip to Haeun Island. Three days, two nights. Company's expense."
Some welcomed the idea. Others thought it was pointless. But by the end of the week, they were boarding a ferry under a cloudless sky.
Haeun Island – Day 1
The island smelled of salt and pine. The company set up camp near a wide beach, rows of colorful tents flapping in the sea breeze.
There were beach games, a barbecue by the shore, and even a small bonfire that crackled late into the night. Nam Shin found herself laughing more than she had in weeks, Woo Jin-ho always keeping a quiet watch from nearby.
The next night they all decided to play a game as they were little relaxed now. HR informed them "Tonight," one of the senior staff announced, "we'll play the Courage Challenge. You'll go in teams to the old school in the jungle. First team back wins bragging rights."
Nam Shin was paired with Lee Jun-bin from finance—a man with a nervous laugh and a habit of checking his phone every five minutes. They set out with flashlights, the jungle path crunching underfoot.
Halfway there, Jun-bin's phone buzzed. He muttered something about needing to make a call and veered off, promising to catch up. He never did.
Nam Shin pressed on, the beam of her flashlight cutting through the dark. The abandoned school emerged from the shadows—a weathered building with boarded windows and a roof sagging under years of neglect.
She took one step toward it—then froze. A figure in all black was leaning against the far wall, as if waiting.
Before she could react, he lunged. Her flashlight clattered to the ground, plunging her into near darkness. She screamed, the sound tearing from her throat, but in the distance, the faint thump of music and laughter from the camp swallowed her voice.
She ran, branches slapping her face, heart pounding so hard it blurred her vision. The man's footsteps followed—steady, unhurried, but always close. She tripped over a root and fell, pain shooting through her knee.
Rough hands closed around her throat. Her vision swam. Her nails scraped uselessly at his grip.
"S..Stop it .. please...let.tt.let me go" she begged while trying to breath and untightening his grib with all her strength.
Fortunately she heard a familiar voice soon after.
"Nam Shin shii!" he shouted!
The pressure vanished as Woo Jin-ho slammed into the attacker, sending them both crashing into the undergrowth. The man in black scrambled up and bolted into the trees before Woo could grab him.
Woo Jin-ho turned back to her, breathing hard. "You're okay," he said, though his voice was tight with fear. He lifted her easily into his arms. He took her back to the camp.
By the time they reached camp, word had spread. Faces pale, conversations hushed. The decision was made before sunrise—they would return to the city immediately.
On the ferry ride back, Nam Shin sat beside Woo Jin-ho, her hand unconsciously resting near his. He didn't take it, but he didn't move away either.
Out on the horizon, the island faded into mist, taking their brief peace with it.