The afternoon light poured softly through the balcony's glass door, filling the small apartment with a warm, gentle glow. The place was modest but spotless—white curtains, beige walls, a soft grey carpet, a tiny but neat living room with toys scattered like fallen stars across the floor. A faint scent of laundry detergent and warm sunlight hung in the air.
Yanam stood barefoot near the balcony, sleeves rolled up, white shirt slightly wrinkled from cleaning. His soft brown eyes, normally warm and clear, were now fixed sternly on the little pair of hands reaching toward his shirt.
"Hey hey, not again…"
He caught those clumsy fingers before they stained the fabric. Despite his delicate, pale features, he had a surprisingly good frame—broad shoulders, a tall build of 186 cm—wrapped in a soft, harmless aura. He looked like someone easily breakable, yet stubborn enough to stand back up every time.
But now, however, exhaustion sat beneath his eyes.
He had cleaned the entire house, and just when he thought he could rest, his two-year-old had decided to dig into the money plant's soil.
"You little demon…"
He tried to sound angry, to make this little demon a little bit afraid, but Yu Anan giggled and threw his head back, laughing loudly and showcasing his growing teeth.
At that moment, Yanam's annoyance melted like snow in sunlight. This little one knew all of Yanam's weaknesses.
He sighed, defeated.
"Let's wash your hands, shall we?"
He lifted the little boy—Yu Anan, small and soft in his pastel romper—who immediately grabbed onto Yanam's collar, clinging like a koala.
The house was quiet. Peaceful. Almost too peaceful. Like every weekend it had to be.
Then the doorbell rang.
A sharp, unexpected sound that sliced through the stillness.
He froze while washing Yu Anan's hands. He frowned. He wasn't expecting anyone. Not today.
Not ever, if he could help it.
"Hey, Yu Anan, don't you dare make a fuss or I'll beat your little butt no matter how cute you are."
He put him in the crib, giving a warning only half-serious. The crib was surrounded by plush toys, half of which the child used as stepping stones during escape attempts.
Yanam glanced back once more to see if he was doing something suspicious.
Yu Anan stared at him with wide, innocent eyes, hugging a stuffed bunny like it was his last shield.
"Right."
He then left the room. The bell rang again, more impatient this time.
Yanam exhaled slowly, rolling down his sleeves as he walked toward the door.
The closer he got, the colder the air felt. This was unusual.
He reached the handle… and a sudden thud hit his chest. A sinking sense of dread. His instincts were alarming him.
He scratched his head, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling he sensed, and turned the handle.
The door cracked open. And everything froze—
the warm and gentle sunlight, the stillness of the moment disturbed like a drop falling into still water and creating ripples.
One,
two,
three seconds passed.
And he slammed it shut instantly, locking it with shaking hands.
He had seen only one glimpse. Just one glimpse.
And everything inside him shattered.
Knocking began.
At first calm.
Then harder. Then violent.
"Open up, Yanam."