Chapter Text
Dunk Natachai considered himself a tolerant man.
He recycled. He watered the landlady’s plants. He waved at delivery drivers and even helped Mr. Phat from 4F reinstall his air-conditioning unit during a heatwave. He liked people. In fact, most people liked him. Even coworkers from his IT technician job like him a lot, he is the team mascot, office lucky charm.
All except one.
Apartment 4B.
A hoodie-wearing, yogurt-stealing, antisocial menace.
Joong.
Dunk didn’t even know his full name. Just Joong. Probably stood for “Joyless Gremlin.” Or “Jerkface Online Overlord Never Grateful.” That tracked.
Every morning Dunk woke up to the sound of mechanical keyboard clacking through the paper-thin wall they shared. Every night, the exact same. Sometimes—suspiciously—there would be sudden stretches of silence. No keyboard, no footsteps, no sound at all.
That was worse.
That meant he was either plotting something or watching him through the wall with his soulless brown eyes.
Like this morning.
“Morning, Mrs. Noon,” Dunk greeted their landlady with a smile as he walked out with his coffee. “The leak in the hallway still dripping?”
Mrs. Noon sighed and adjusted her headscarf. “Joong didn’t say anything. Just walked past me like I’m invisible. Again.”
“He probably thinks you’re a hologram.” Dunk sipped his Americano. “He only speaks in caveman grunts. I’ve started translating for him.”
Mrs. Noon looked surprised. “You can understand him?”
“Oh yeah,” Dunk said cheerfully. “Yesterday he said ‘hnngh,’ which means please fix the sink, and the day before, his ‘tch’ meant why is the WiFi down, you useless cretins.”
Mrs. Noon cackled. “You’re awful.”
“I learned from the best.” Dunk smiled sweetly at the security camera. “He started it.”
Later that day, Dunk opened their shared fridge in the fourth floor lobby and nearly screamed.
His yogurt was gone.
Again.
It wasn’t just any yogurt. It was the expensive kind—imported, vanilla bean, probiotic masterpiece. It had his name on it.
In thick black marker: DUNK. DO NOT TOUCH OR DIE.
And yet.
A single sticky note was left inside the fridge.
“Yogurt sucked. -4B”
“You raccoon,” Dunk muttered, ripping the note in half.
He stormed out into the hallway, marched to 4B, and pounded on the door like it owed him rent.
It swung open half an inch.
Joong stared at him. Oversized hoodie. Dead eyes. Sleep-mussed hair that looked criminally soft.
“Hi,” Dunk snapped. “I don’t know what cave you crawled out of this time, but if you don’t stop stealing my food, I will report you to the yogurt police.”
Joong blinked. “You labeled it.”
“Exactly!”
“That’s consent.”
Dunk sputtered. “THAT’S NOT—You can’t just—what kind of logic—!”
Joong reached out, gently shut the door in his face.
That night, Dunk got even.
He posted on the building’s online bulletin board:
“Avoid Apt 4B. Haunted by a tall, sulky ghost. Known to hiss at sunlight and steal probiotic foods.”
He even made a fake Yelp review for their building:
"Lived here six months. Love the vibe, but Apartment 4B may be a cryptid. Smelled like gamer. Would not recommend."
He expected Joong to rage. Slam doors. Pound on walls. Challenge him to a neighbor duel or something.
Instead, Joong responded with Post-it notes.
On his door the next morning:
“Heard your playlist through the wall. Do you always listen to sad boy breakup songs at 2AM?”
Followed by:
“You breathe loud.”
And then:
“Yogurt still sucked.”
But the worst part wasn’t the war.
It was how hot Joong was.
Tall. Broad shoulders. Always barefoot in the hallway, like he was allergic to shoes. Dunk hated that he noticed. Hated the way Joong’s voice, when he did speak, was deep and raspy like a half-asleep villain.
He especially hated how that voice sounded familiar.
Like the stream he listened to every night.
Chenneverlost.
His guilty pleasure. The most toxic, top-ranked LoL streamer alive. Quick-witted. Foul-mouthed. Charismatic. Joong was nothing like Chenneverlost. Chenneverlost made him laugh.
Joong made him want to throw a sock at the wall.
Still… that voice…
No. It couldn’t be.
Right?