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The rain had started sometime after noon.
Not the loud, dramatic kind that rattled windows or flooded streets within minutes. It was soft. Persistent. The sort of rain that wrapped the city in gray and convinced everyone to hurry home before it grew heavier.
Kang Taehyun adjusted the strap of his backpack higher onto his shoulder and glanced at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand for what had to be the tenth time.
Haedong Apartments. Building C. Room 304.
He sighed.
"I really hope this place isn't as bad as the reviews."
The landlord had laughed over the phone.
"If you're expecting luxury for that price, you're dreaming."
Taehyun wasn't expecting luxury.
He was expecting mold.
Questionable plumbing.
Maybe a broken elevator.
He had learned long ago that expectations only led to disappointment.
At twenty-six, disappointment had become familiar.
Graduate school had consumed the better part of his twenties. Between tuition, research, and part-time work at the university library, money disappeared almost as quickly as he earned it.
His savings were nearly gone.
His previous apartment had doubled the rent.
His scholarship covered classes.
It did not cover living.
Which was exactly how he had ended up dragging one suitcase through a neighborhood he had never visited before.
The seaside district was quieter than the center of Seoul.
Small cafés lined the streets.
Independent bookstores sat beside flower shops.
An old woman watered potted plants outside her bakery despite the rain.
Children splashed through puddles while their parents pretended to be annoyed.
It felt...
Peaceful.
Taehyun frowned.
That didn't match the apartment's price at all.
Normally, places this affordable came with a catch.
A dangerous neighborhood.
Constant noise.
Terrible transportation.
Something.
Yet everything around him looked almost charming.
He checked the address again before finally spotting the apartment building tucked between a laundromat and an old stationery store.
It was older than the surrounding buildings.
Five floors.
Faded brick.
Balconies with rusting railings.
Vines had begun climbing one side of the exterior wall, softening its age.
It looked...
Lonely.
As though everyone else had modernized while it had been forgotten.
Taehyun walked inside.
The lobby smelled faintly of old wood and dust.
A ceiling fan spun lazily overhead.
Rows of mailboxes covered one wall, many of them empty.
The landlord, a man somewhere in his sixties wearing slippers and an oversized cardigan, looked up from behind a tiny reception desk.
"You must be Kang Taehyun."
Taehyun bowed politely.
"Yes."
The man smiled.
"You're early."
"I had nothing else to do."
"Students usually say they got lost."
"I almost did."
The landlord chuckled.
"I like you already."
He reached beneath the desk and pulled out a ring holding several keys.
"So."
He hesitated.
"You've read the lease?"
"I have."
"And you're still interested?"
Taehyun blinked.
"...Shouldn't I be?"
The older man scratched the back of his neck.
"I always ask."
"Why?"
Another pause.
Then another smile.
"No reason."
That answer somehow managed to be reassuring and unsettling at the same time.
The elevator was out of order.
Of course it was.
They climbed three flights of narrow stairs instead.
The hallways were surprisingly clean.
Someone had placed fresh flowers outside one apartment door.
Another resident had lined their windowsill with tiny ceramic cats.
Room 304 sat at the very end of the corridor.
The landlord unlocked the door.
"There you are."
The apartment was...
Much larger than Taehyun expected.
A small kitchen.
A living room with wide windows overlooking the ocean in the distance.
One bedroom.
One bathroom.
Wooden floors that creaked slightly underfoot.
The wallpaper was old but clean.
Sunlight struggled through the clouds, filling the room with a pale silver glow.
Taehyun slowly turned in a circle.
"This..."
He looked at the landlord.
"...This is really the apartment?"
"It is."
"The rent wasn't missing a zero?"
"No."
"There isn't water leaking through the ceiling?"
"No."
"Gas problem?"
"No."
"Termites?"
"No."
Taehyun narrowed his eyes.
"Someone died here."
The landlord laughed so loudly he nearly dropped the keys.
"I knew you'd ask eventually."
"So someone did."
The laughter faded.
"A long time ago."
Taehyun folded his arms.
"I'm studying forensic psychology."
"I know."
"I don't believe in ghosts."
"I didn't say anything about ghosts."
"You didn't have to."
The landlord smiled again.
"There was a fire."
Taehyun waited.
"Twenty years ago."
"And?"
"One person died."
Silence.
"And that's why everyone avoids this apartment?"
The old man shrugged.
"People like stories."
"So there isn't actually anything wrong with it."
"I've never seen anything."
Not exactly the answer Taehyun wanted.
"But you've heard things."
"I've heard many things."
"What kind of things?"
The landlord looked toward the living room window.
"Footsteps."
"Creaking."
"Books falling."
"Music."
Taehyun raised an eyebrow.
"Old buildings make noise."
"They do."
"So."
"So."
Another awkward silence.
Finally the landlord handed him the keys.
"If anything unusual happens..."
Taehyun smiled politely.
"I'll call maintenance."
The older man laughed again.
"I was going to say don't panic."
"I don't panic."
"We'll see."
With that, he left.
The apartment became completely silent.
Taehyun stood in the middle of the living room for several seconds.
Nothing happened.
He nodded to himself.
"As expected."
Ghost stories.
Every old building had one.
He opened the windows to let fresh air inside.
The scent of rain and salt drifted through the apartment.
Somewhere below, waves crashed gently against the seawall.
It was peaceful enough that he could almost imagine himself enjoying living here.
Almost.
He spent the next two hours unpacking.
Books first.
Always books first.
His shelves quickly filled with psychology textbooks, crime novels, philosophy, and classic literature.
His kitchen, on the other hand, remained almost empty.
A frying pan.
Two bowls.
One mug.
Instant coffee.
He made a mental note to buy groceries tomorrow.
By the time evening arrived, exhaustion settled into his shoulders.
He ordered cheap takeout.
Ate while sitting on the floor because he still hadn't assembled the table.
Watched the rain continue beyond the windows.
For the first time in months...
His apartment was quiet.
No neighbors screaming through paper-thin walls.
No traffic.
No construction.
Just rain.
It was nice.
His phone buzzed.
A message from his university advisor.
"Don't forget your presentation Monday."
Another from a classmate asking if he wanted to review together.
Taehyun ignored both.
Tonight, he wanted one evening without thinking about deadlines.
He cleaned up dinner, brushed his teeth, and changed into an old sweatshirt.
The bedroom felt strangely cold.
Probably poor insulation.
He climbed into bed.
Pulled the blanket higher.
Closed his eyes.
Sleep came surprisingly fast.
Then...
A sound.
Soft.
Almost too quiet to notice.
Thump.
Taehyun's eyes opened.
He stayed perfectly still.
The apartment fell silent again.
Probably the building settling.
He closed his eyes.
Thump.
This time it sounded closer.
From the living room.
He opened one eye.
Then both.
His digital clock read 2:17 a.m.
He sighed heavily.
The wind must have knocked something over.
He climbed out of bed, slipped on his glasses, and shuffled toward the living room without bothering to turn on the lights.
Moonlight poured through the large windows.
Enough to illuminate the room.
Everything looked exactly as he'd left it.
Except...
One book lay on the floor.
Taehyun frowned.
He was certain he'd arranged them neatly before going to bed.
He picked it up.
It was an old paperback copy of The Little Prince.
Weird.
He placed it back on the shelf.
"Gravity," he muttered.
He turned to return to bed.
Behind him...
Very quietly.
Someone laughed.
Not loud.
Not malicious.
Just...
A tiny, amused chuckle.
Taehyun froze.
Every muscle in his body locked.
His rational mind immediately began searching for explanations.
Neighbor.
Television.
Street noise.
His own imagination.
Slowly...
Very slowly...
He turned around.
The room was empty.
He stared for another full minute.
Nothing moved.
Nothing breathed.
Nothing made a sound.
Finally, feeling slightly ridiculous, he rubbed the back of his neck.
"I seriously need more sleep."
He walked back toward his bedroom.
As soon as the door clicked shut...
The young man standing beside the bookshelf let out a relieved breath he did not need.
He looked about twenty-seven.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Soft brown hair fell across gentle eyes filled with quiet curiosity.
He wore a cream-colored knit sweater and dark slacks that looked decades out of fashion.
His gaze lingered on the bedroom door.
Then drifted to the copy of The Little Prince.
A small smile spread across his face.
"So..."
he whispered into the empty apartment.
"You're the new tenant."
Morning arrived quietly.
The rain had stopped sometime before dawn, leaving behind a sky washed pale blue and streets that still glistened beneath the sunlight.
Taehyun stood in the kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil.
His apartment smelled faintly of fresh coffee and cardboard boxes that still needed unpacking.
He had slept surprisingly well after returning to bed.
Well enough that, in the bright light of morning, the strange laugh from the night before felt almost embarrassing to think about.
Old buildings made noise.
People imagined things when they were tired.
He had spent years studying the way the human mind interpreted incomplete information. Give someone a dark room and a little uncertainty, and the brain would eagerly fill in the blanks.
There had been no ghost.
Just a very exhausted graduate student with too much on his mind.
The kettle whistled.
Taehyun poured the water into a chipped mug and sighed after the first sip.
"Still terrible."
Instant coffee remained one of humanity's greatest disappointments.
His phone buzzed.
A message from his advisor.
Don't forget your draft by Friday.
Another from his classmate.
Still alive after moving?
Taehyun replied with a simple thumbs-up before slipping his phone into his pocket.
He needed groceries.
Real coffee.
And probably a desk chair that didn't threaten to collapse every time he leaned back.
He grabbed his backpack and headed toward the front door.
His hand reached for the doorknob.
Stopped.
"...Where are my keys?"
He frowned.
He distinctly remembered placing them on the small wooden table beside the entrance.
The table was empty.
Strange.
He checked his jacket pockets.
Nothing.
His backpack.
Nothing.
The kitchen counter.
Nothing.
The bedroom.
Nothing.
Within ten minutes, the apartment looked as though a tornado had passed through it.
Blankets were thrown aside.
Kitchen cabinets stood open.
Books had somehow ended up in the hallway.
Taehyun pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I've lived here for less than a day."
He looked toward the ceiling.
"I cannot already be losing things."
Across the living room, completely invisible to him, Soobin sat cross-legged on the couch.
The missing keys rested comfortably in his palm.
His expression was caught somewhere between guilt and fascination.
He hadn't meant to take them.
Not exactly.
He had simply...
Touched them.
Or tried to.
Usually his hand passed straight through everything.
Sometimes, though...
Very rarely...
Small objects responded.
Coins.
Sheets of paper.
Bookmarks.
Things that were light enough.
He had been surprised when the keys landed in his hand.
Then Taehyun had started searching.
Then panicking.
Now Soobin had absolutely no idea how to put them back without making the situation infinitely worse.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
Taehyun opened another drawer.
"I don't even remember opening this one."
Soobin glanced between the keys and Taehyun.
"...Maybe..."
He stood.
Walked cautiously toward the entrance.
Closed his eyes.
Focused.
His fingers loosened.
The keys slipped from his hand.
For a brief second they simply floated.
Then gravity took over.
They landed with a loud metallic clatter directly behind Taehyun.
Taehyun jumped so hard he nearly walked into the wall.
"What the..."
He spun around.
The keys lay on the floor.
Exactly in the middle of the hallway.
He stared.
"...No."
He looked around the apartment.
Silence.
No open windows.
No pets.
No explanation.
He bent down slowly and picked them up.
"I definitely..."
His sentence died halfway through.
No.
There had to be a logical reason.
He simply hadn't seen them.
That was all.
He nodded firmly.
"Exactly."
Satisfied with his explanation, even if it felt a little forced, he locked the apartment and left.
The hallway echoed with his footsteps until they disappeared down the stairs.
Only then did Soobin let out a breath.
"Oh..."
He buried his face in his hands.
"That was close."
He had not spoken to another person in twenty years.
Not really.
Residents came and went.
Some stayed for months.
Others left after only a few days.
Most never noticed anything.
A few sensed that they were not alone.
One woman had spent an entire week talking politely into empty rooms before moving away because her daughter was frightened by unexplained noises.
A college student had lasted two months.
He blamed the old plumbing for everything.
An elderly man had stayed almost three years.
He used to read poetry aloud every evening.
Soobin had liked him.
Then the apartment became empty again.
Months.
Sometimes years.
Silence returned every time.
He had grown used to loneliness.
Or at least...
He had convinced himself he had.
Yesterday, hearing someone laugh in the apartment again.
Watching someone unpack books.
Listening to footsteps that weren't his own.
It had made the rooms feel alive.
He wandered toward the bookshelf.
His eyes immediately landed on the novels Taehyun had unpacked.
Psychology.
Criminal profiling.
Behavioral science.
Mystery novels.
Classics.
His fingers hovered over the spine of The Little Prince.
"I've read you before."
He smiled softly.
"I think."
The smile faded almost immediately.
"I think..."
He frowned.
Had he?
Or had he only seen it somewhere?
His memories had become like old photographs left in the sun.
Every year they faded a little more.
Some had disappeared completely.
He remembered rain.
He remembered laughing.
He remembered someone teaching him how to fold paper cranes.
He remembered...
Nothing else.
His own mother's face.
Gone.
His father's voice.
Gone.
Friends.
School.
Birthdays.
Nothing.
Only scattered fragments that refused to fit together.
Sometimes he wondered if forgetting was worse than dying.
Because how could someone know who they were when even their happiest memories had abandoned them?
He sat beside the window.
Outside, life continued.
People walked dogs.
Children rode bicycles.
The flower shop across the street arranged bouquets outside.
The little bookstore next door opened its doors.
Everything moved forward.
Everything except him.
By late afternoon, Taehyun returned carrying several grocery bags.
He was tired.
The supermarket had been farther away than expected.
He unlocked the apartment.
Walked inside.
Stopped.
His eyebrows slowly drew together.
"...I swear."
The living room looked...
Different.
Not messy.
Just...
Tidier.
The blanket he had left hanging over the couch had been folded neatly.
The books he had scattered while searching for his keys were stacked in perfect piles.
Even the cardboard boxes had been pushed neatly against the wall.
Taehyun stood perfectly still.
He hadn't done that.
He knew he hadn't.
He lived alone.
Didn't he?
His rational mind immediately supplied possibilities.
The landlord.
Maybe he'd entered to inspect something.
But why would he clean?
That made no sense.
He carefully set the grocery bags on the kitchen counter.
"Hello?"
No answer.
"If someone's here..."
Silence.
"...You're trespassing."
Nothing.
He checked the bedroom.
Empty.
Bathroom.
Empty.
Closets.
Empty.
Under the bed.
Also empty.
After searching the entire apartment, he ended up exactly where he'd started.
Standing alone in the living room.
He looked at the folded blanket again.
Then at the perfectly organized books.
"...Thank you?"
The words escaped before he could stop them.
Across the room, Soobin's eyes widened.
He knew Taehyun couldn't see him.
Still...
His chest felt strangely warm.
No one had thanked him in a very long time.
A tiny smile found its way onto his face.
"You're welcome."
Taehyun blinked.
For the briefest moment...
He could have sworn he heard a voice.
Soft.
Gentle.
Almost like someone speaking from another room.
He looked toward the window.
Nothing.
The apartment remained quiet.
He let out a slow breath.
"...I really need to stop skipping sleep."
He laughed to himself and began putting away the groceries.
Behind him, unnoticed, Soobin leaned against the wall, watching with quiet amusement.
For the first time in years...
The apartment didn't feel empty anymore.
And for reasons he couldn't explain...
Neither did he.
The apartment had a rhythm.
Taehyun noticed it after four days.
Every morning, sunlight slipped through the east-facing windows just after seven.
At eight, the elderly woman downstairs watered the plants on her balcony while humming the same melody.
At nine, the owner of the flower shop rolled buckets of fresh flowers onto the sidewalk.
By noon, the smell of bread drifted from the bakery on the corner.
By evening, the sea breeze carried enough salt into the apartment that Taehyun had started leaving the windows open whenever the weather allowed.
It was peaceful.
Comfortably predictable.
Except...
The apartment itself.
It had developed an odd habit of cleaning up after him.
Not dramatically.
Just enough to be impossible to ignore.
A mug he forgot in the sink would somehow be washed by morning.
The blanket he kicked onto the floor during the night would be folded over the couch.
Books he left open on the coffee table always returned to the exact shelf they belonged on.
Once...
His laundry basket had somehow ended up beside the washing machine.
Taehyun stared at it for a full minute.
"I don't..."
He scratched his head.
"...think I'm sleepwalking."
He had researched sleep disorders before.
This didn't fit.
Sleepwalkers didn't organize books alphabetically.
They certainly didn't fold towels with military precision.
Whoever, or whatever, was responsible...
Had excellent organizational skills.
Soobin watched from the kitchen doorway.
He wasn't trying to be creepy.
Really.
He simply...
Didn't have anywhere else to go.
Twenty years trapped inside the same apartment had made him intimately familiar with every crack in the ceiling, every loose floorboard, every stubborn cabinet that refused to close completely.
Now there was finally something new.
Someone new.
Taehyun fascinated him.
The younger man spoke to himself constantly.
Not loudly.
Just little comments.
"This coffee tastes like disappointment."
"I really should stop buying instant noodles."
"If one more professor changes the deadline, I'm dropping out and opening a bakery."
Soobin had laughed so hard at that one that three pencils rolled off the desk.
Taehyun had stared at the pencils for nearly five minutes afterward.
Later that afternoon, Taehyun sat cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by books and highlighted research papers.
He had a presentation in three days.
Unfortunately, his brain had decided to stop cooperating.
He read the same sentence four times.
Forgot it immediately.
Read it again.
Forgot it again.
Finally he groaned.
"I'm hungry."
The apartment remained silent.
He stretched his arms over his head.
"What do normal people eat when they don't feel like cooking?"
Without thinking, Soobin answered.
"Tteokbokki."
Taehyun froze.
Soobin froze too.
The room became painfully still.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them breathed.
Well...
One of them didn't have to.
Five long seconds passed.
Ten.
Finally Taehyun slowly looked around the apartment.
"...Hello?"
Soobin covered his own mouth.
"I..."
His voice had simply...
Come out.
Usually no one reacted.
No one heard him.
He had spoken hundreds of times over the years.
To himself.
To empty rooms.
To tenants who never responded.
This time...
Taehyun had.
Coincidence.
It had to be.
Taehyun stood.
"Who's there?"
Silence.
Soobin cautiously took one small step backward.
Taehyun's eyes followed the movement.
Not directly.
Almost.
Like he sensed something.
Soobin frowned.
"...No."
He moved another step.
Taehyun turned a little more.
His gaze still wasn't focused on Soobin.
But it was...
Close.
Very close.
An uneasy feeling settled in Soobin's chest.
He had seen people react before.
Cold spots.
Unexplained noises.
Flickering lights.
Never...
This.
Taehyun swallowed.
"I know someone answered."
No reply.
He waited another minute before rubbing the back of his neck.
"I've officially reached the point where graduate school is making me hear voices."
He sat back down.
"...Definitely getting tteokbokki, though."
Soobin blinked.
"...Seriously?"
That evening, Taehyun returned carrying takeout.
The smell immediately filled the apartment.
He smiled despite himself.
"Worth it."
He placed the containers on the coffee table.
Set out chopsticks.
Opened a bottle of water.
Then...
Without really thinking...
He grabbed a second pair of chopsticks from the kitchen drawer.
He stopped.
Stared at them.
"...Why did I do that?"
He looked around.
Embarrassed despite being alone.
"This apartment is making me weird."
Chuckling quietly, he placed the extra chopsticks back.
Across the room, Soobin's expression softened.
For reasons he couldn't explain...
The tiny gesture made something ache inside him.
Night settled over the city.
Taehyun worked until almost midnight before finally giving up.
He closed his laptop.
Yawned.
"I'll finish tomorrow."
As he stood, one of the books balanced on top of another stack slipped toward the edge of the table.
Soobin instinctively reached out.
His fingers caught it.
The book stopped falling.
For one impossible second...
Taehyun watched it.
Floating.
Not high.
Just...
Suspended.
His heartbeat stopped.
The book gently settled back onto the table.
Silence.
Very slowly...
Taehyun looked up.
Straight ahead.
Not through the room.
Not vaguely toward a noise.
Straight.
At Soobin.
Soobin's smile disappeared.
Their eyes met.
Actually met.
Time seemed to stop.
Taehyun didn't scream.
Didn't run.
Didn't blink.
His lips parted ever so slightly.
"..."
Soobin forgot how to think.
Because no one...
No one had ever looked directly at him before.
Not in twenty years.
Not once.
He cautiously lifted one hand.
Not expecting anything.
Taehyun's eyes followed the movement perfectly.
"...You..."
Taehyun whispered.
The word barely existed.
"So..."
His voice shook.
"...someone really is here."
Soobin felt something tighten painfully in his chest.
Hope.
Something he had buried years ago.
He took one careful step closer.
Taehyun didn't look away.
Another step.
Still watching him.
No confusion.
No wandering gaze.
Just...
Recognition.
"You can..."
Soobin's own voice trembled.
"...see me?"
Taehyun stared.
His heartbeat echoed loudly in his ears.
Every rational explanation he had spent days constructing collapsed in an instant.
Hallucination.
Stress.
Sleep deprivation.
None of them explained the book.
None of them explained the eyes now looking back at him.
He swallowed.
"...I think..."
His voice came out almost laughably small.
"...I can."
Soobin laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because after twenty years of speaking into silence...
Someone had finally answered.
Neither of them moved.
The apartment seemed to hold its breath with them.
The clock on the kitchen wall continued ticking.
Outside, somewhere far below, a scooter drove past the building.
The sound of waves drifted through the open window.
Everything was normal.
Except nothing was.
Taehyun stared.
The young man standing a few feet away looked...
Real.
Not transparent.
Not glowing.
Not like the ghosts from horror movies.
He looked like an ordinary person.
Soft brown hair that fell into gentle eyes.
A cream-colored knit sweater.
Dark trousers.
His hands were shoved awkwardly into his pockets as though he had no idea what to do with them.
If Taehyun hadn't just watched a book stop in midair...
He would have assumed someone had somehow wandered into his apartment.
His heart hammered against his ribs.
"Who..."
His voice cracked.
He cleared his throat.
"...Who are you?"
The stranger blinked.
"I..."
He hesitated.
"My name is Soobin."
His smile was small.
Almost apologetic.
"I think."
Taehyun frowned.
"You think?"
"I know my name is Soobin."
A nervous laugh escaped him.
"I'm just not completely sure about anything after that."
Silence settled again.
Taehyun looked him up and down.
"You've been..."
He gestured vaguely around the apartment.
"...here?"
Soobin nodded.
"For a long time."
"How long?"
Another pause.
"I think..."
His expression slowly grew distant.
"...Twenty years."
Taehyun's eyebrows lifted.
"Twenty..."
"At least."
"You don't know?"
"I stopped counting."
There was something so matter-of-fact about the answer that it unsettled Taehyun more than anything else.
Twenty years.
Someone didn't accidentally spend twenty years trapped somewhere.
Unless...
No.
His mind refused to finish the thought.
He took a careful step forward.
"So..."
He spoke slowly.
"You're a ghost."
Soobin scratched the back of his neck.
"I've always assumed so."
"You assumed?"
"I woke up here."
"So you don't remember dying?"
"No."
"Or your family?"
A shadow crossed Soobin's face.
"No."
"Friends?"
"No."
"Your job?"
"No."
"What year were you born?"
"...No."
Every answer came softer than the last.
Taehyun noticed the way Soobin's shoulders sank a little lower each time.
As though admitting everything he had forgotten hurt more than saying it aloud.
The silence that followed felt heavy.
Finally Taehyun spoke.
"You said you've been here twenty years."
"I think so."
"Have you ever talked to anyone?"
"I've talked."
"So people ignored you?"
"They never heard me."
"So..."
Taehyun looked directly into his eyes.
"...Why can I?"
Soobin smiled weakly.
"I was hoping you knew."
Despite everything...
Taehyun almost laughed.
The absurdity of the situation was impossible to ignore.
He had spent years studying the human mind.
He believed in evidence.
Facts.
Data.
Now he was interviewing what appeared to be a ghost who admitted he knew almost nothing about being dead.
"This is ridiculous."
"It really is."
"I don't believe in ghosts."
"I didn't either."
Taehyun blinked.
"You didn't?"
"I mean..."
Soobin laughed awkwardly.
"I don't actually remember."
That finally made Taehyun laugh.
A short one.
Quiet.
More from disbelief than amusement.
For the first time since they started talking, Soobin's smile became genuine.
It was strange.
Hearing laughter directed at him instead of through him.
Taehyun slowly walked toward the couch.
"I think I need to sit down."
"That's fair."
He lowered himself onto the cushions.
"So."
"So."
Neither of them continued.
Taehyun rubbed both hands over his face.
"This feels like I'm dreaming."
"I wondered if I was dreaming too."
"When?"
"The first time you looked at me."
Taehyun lowered his hands.
"You knew I could see you."
"No."
"I hoped."
Soobin glanced toward the floor.
"People sometimes react when I move things."
"They get cold."
"They hear noises."
"They think someone called their name."
"But no one has ever..."
He looked back up.
"...looked at me."
His voice had become so quiet that Taehyun almost missed the last sentence.
Something tightened inside his chest.
Twenty years.
Completely alone.
No conversations.
No hugs.
No one remembering you existed.
He couldn't even begin to imagine it.
"What did you do?"
Taehyun asked softly.
"All this time?"
Soobin shrugged.
"I waited."
"For what?"
"I don't know."
"You never tried leaving?"
"I can't."
"What happens?"
"I just..."
He looked toward the apartment door.
"...can't."
Taehyun followed his gaze.
"What do you mean you can't?"
Soobin stood.
"You'll see."
He walked toward the front door.
Stopped about a meter away.
Then tried taking another step.
Nothing happened.
His foot refused to move.
Not because something physical blocked him.
His body simply...
Stopped.
Like two magnets pushing against each other.
He leaned forward.
His expression tightened.
Still nothing.
"I've tried every day."
He smiled sadly.
"I've never made it past here."
Taehyun stood slowly.
He approached until they were standing only a few feet apart.
"Can I..."
He hesitated.
"Can I see?"
Soobin nodded.
Taehyun walked around him.
There was nothing there.
No wall.
No invisible barrier.
Just air.
He reached one hand toward the space in front of Soobin.
Nothing.
His hand passed through easily.
"So it's only you."
"I guess."
Taehyun looked thoughtful.
His analytical mind had finally found something to focus on.
"If you're bound to this apartment..."
"So it seems."
"Then there has to be a reason."
"I've thought that too."
"And your memories."
Soobin's eyes flickered with hope.
"You think they're connected?"
"I don't know."
"But people don't lose almost everything without a cause."
Unless...
Brain injury.
Trauma.
Disease.
His thoughts stopped.
Disease.
Could ghosts get diseases?
He immediately felt ridiculous for even asking himself that.
He was already trying to diagnose a ghost.
Wonderful.
Graduate school really had ruined him.
"What?"
Soobin asked, amused.
"You made a face."
"I was considering whether ghosts can have neurological disorders."
There was a beat of silence.
Then Soobin laughed.
Actually laughed.
Not quietly.
Not politely.
A full, genuine laugh that filled the apartment.
"I..."
He covered his mouth.
"I'm sorry."
"It's just..."
He laughed again.
"I've never heard anyone say that before."
Taehyun couldn't help smiling.
"I've never had a reason to ask before."
Their laughter slowly faded.
The apartment became peaceful again.
Different.
Not empty.
Comfortable.
Like two strangers who had somehow skipped the awkward introductions and landed somewhere closer to old friends.
After a while, Taehyun glanced toward the kitchen clock.
It was nearly one in the morning.
"You know."
He looked back at Soobin.
"I have class at eight."
"So you should sleep."
"I should."
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them seemed eager to end the conversation.
Finally Taehyun sighed.
"I'll probably wake up and convince myself I imagined this."
"I've thought about that."
"You have?"
"I was worried."
"So..."
A shy smile spread across Soobin's face.
"...If you wake up tomorrow..."
He looked almost embarrassed.
"...Could you say good morning?"
Taehyun blinked.
The request was so small.
So ordinary.
And somehow...
It hurt.
Because it sounded like something a person only asked after spending far too long being ignored.
Taehyun smiled.
A real one.
"I will."
Soobin smiled back.
For the first time in twenty years...
Tomorrow was something to look forward to.
Taehyun woke before his alarm.
For a few blissful seconds, his mind was empty.
No deadlines.
No presentations.
No impossible conversations with ghosts.
Just the faint sound of seagulls outside his bedroom window and the warmth of sunlight creeping across his blanket.
Then he opened his eyes.
The memories of the previous night crashed into him all at once.
Soobin.
The floating book.
The conversation.
Twenty years.
His heart lurched.
He sat upright so quickly that his glasses slid off the bedside table.
"...Right."
He stared at the bedroom door.
It wasn't a dream.
At least...
He didn't think it was.
His logical brain desperately wanted to believe it had been.
Stress hallucinations were rare but not impossible.
Sleep deprivation could cause...
No.
Hallucinations didn't hold conversations that lasted nearly an hour.
Nor did they introduce information the brain had no reason to invent.
He rubbed his face.
"I've officially lost every argument I've ever had about the supernatural."
Taking a deep breath, he climbed out of bed.
The apartment was quiet.
Almost disappointingly so.
Part of him wondered if he had imagined everything after all.
He opened the bedroom door.
The living room was empty.
Morning sunlight spilled across the wooden floor.
The couch sat exactly where it always had.
His textbooks remained scattered over the coffee table from the night before.
Nothing unusual.
Taehyun stood there for several seconds.
Then, remembering his promise, he spoke into the empty apartment.
"...Good morning."
Silence.
He smiled awkwardly.
"I guess I really did..."
A voice came from the kitchen.
"Good morning."
Taehyun jumped hard enough to hit his shoulder against the doorframe.
"Ow."
He turned.
Soobin stood beside the kitchen counter, trying very hard not to laugh.
"I'm sorry."
He failed almost immediately.
"I wasn't expecting you to actually jump."
Taehyun rubbed his shoulder.
"You couldn't have... I don't know..."
He yawned.
"...Appeared more dramatically?"
"I thought the kitchen was less dramatic."
"You were wrong."
That earned another laugh.
It was...
Nice.
Taehyun wasn't sure why.
Maybe because hearing someone laugh inside the apartment no longer felt unsettling.
It simply felt...
Lived in.
"Did you sleep well?"
Soobin asked.
Taehyun blinked.
"Ghosts ask that?"
"I figured I'd start acting like a normal roommate."
The word made Taehyun pause.
Roommate.
It sounded ridiculous.
Yet strangely accurate.
"I slept."
"That's not really an answer."
"I spent half the night wondering if I'd developed psychosis."
"...Fair."
Taehyun walked into the kitchen.
"So."
"So."
"I guess we're living together."
"I guess we are."
Neither of them had expected that sentence to feel so natural.
An hour later, Taehyun was making breakfast.
Or attempting to.
The frying pan hissed loudly.
The eggs looked... questionable.
Soobin leaned against the opposite counter, watching with the sort of fascinated expression one reserved for wildlife documentaries.
"You've been staring at me for five minutes."
"I've been staring at your cooking."
"It's the same thing."
"I'm trying to decide if those eggs are supposed to be that color."
"They're fine."
"They're gray."
"They're artistic."
Soobin laughed.
"I don't think food is supposed to be artistic."
"It absolutely is."
The eggs burned.
Smoke began curling toward the ceiling.
Taehyun sighed.
"...Never mind."
He reached for the stove.
"You know..."
Soobin smiled.
"...Yesterday you asked what normal people eat."
"I remember."
"I'd like to officially change my answer."
"Oh?"
"You should definitely order food."
Taehyun stared at him.
Then, despite himself, burst into laughter.
The sound surprised both of them.
It wasn't polite.
It wasn't forced.
It was the kind of laugh that escaped before he had time to stop it.
Soobin smiled quietly.
He liked that laugh.
Later that morning, Taehyun gathered his things for class.
"So."
He slung his backpack over one shoulder.
"I'll be gone most of the day."
"I figured."
"If..."
He hesitated.
It suddenly felt strange to say.
"If you get bored..."
"I've had twenty years to practice."
Taehyun winced.
"Soobin."
"I'm joking."
His smile softened.
"Mostly."
An uncomfortable silence followed.
Taehyun wasn't sure why he felt guilty.
It wasn't as though he had a choice.
He couldn't skip university because he'd discovered a ghost.
Life still continued.
Classes.
Research.
Bills.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"When I get home..."
The ghost looked up.
"...Let's talk more."
Something bright flickered across Soobin's face.
"I'd like that."
The apartment became quiet after Taehyun left.
Soobin stood by the window.
Watched him disappear down the street.
Then...
The silence returned.
It was different now.
Before, silence had been endless.
Today...
It had an ending.
Taehyun would come back.
Someone would come back.
That thought alone made the apartment feel warmer.
He wandered aimlessly through the rooms.
Straightened books that didn't need straightening.
Folded a blanket that was already folded.
Stopped in front of the bedroom.
He had always avoided going inside when previous tenants lived there.
It had felt...
Private.
Wrong.
But now...
Curiosity won.
The room still smelled faintly of laundry detergent and coffee.
A stack of notebooks sat neatly on the desk.
Beside them was a framed photograph.
Soobin picked it up carefully.
A younger Taehyun.
Maybe sixteen.
Standing between a man and a woman.
His parents, probably.
All three smiled at the camera.
It looked like an ordinary family photograph.
Until Soobin noticed something.
Taehyun's smile.
It wasn't reaching his eyes.
The realization lingered with him long after he put the frame back exactly where he had found it.
By evening, Taehyun finally returned.
He looked exhausted.
His tie had already been loosened before he reached the apartment.
The first thing he did after opening the door was sigh dramatically.
"I'm home."
"I'm in the living room."
"I assumed."
Taehyun dropped his backpack onto the couch.
"My presentation was moved up."
"How did it go?"
"I survived."
"Congratulations."
"I deserve expensive takeout."
"I agree."
Taehyun smiled.
"You agree because you don't have to pay."
"Exactly."
They ordered fried chicken.
Well...
Taehyun ordered.
Soobin watched.
The food arrived thirty minutes later.
Taehyun settled on the couch with the box balanced on his knees.
Without thinking, he looked toward Soobin.
"...Do you miss eating?"
The question escaped quietly.
Soobin didn't answer immediately.
His eyes stayed on the food for a long moment.
"I don't know."
"You don't remember?"
"I remember liking food."
He smiled sadly.
"I just can't remember what anything tastes like anymore."
Taehyun's smile faded.
Not remembering your favorite meal.
Not remembering the taste of chocolate.
Or warm soup.
Or birthday cake.
It sounded impossibly lonely.
After a while, Soobin spoke again.
"I remember one thing."
"What?"
"The smell."
"The smell?"
He nodded.
"I can still smell things."
"What does the chicken smell like?"
Soobin closed his eyes.
"Garlic."
"A little pepper."
"Sesame oil."
"And..."
He smiled.
"...Comfort."
Taehyun looked down at the food in his hands.
Without another word, he quietly slid the box a little closer to Soobin.
It was a completely pointless gesture.
Neither of them mentioned that.
Soobin simply smiled.
"Thank you."
"I know you can't eat it."
"I know."
"But..."
He looked at Taehyun.
"...No one's ever shared a meal with me before."
Taehyun felt his chest tighten.
They spent the rest of dinner talking.
About books.
About university.
About the apartment.
About everything and nothing.
Hours slipped by unnoticed.
Neither of them realized that this was the longest conversation Soobin had had in twenty years.
Or that Taehyun had smiled more in one evening than he had in the past several months.
Outside, night settled over the quiet seaside neighborhood.
Inside Apartment 304, the loneliness that had filled its rooms for decades had begun, little by little, to make space for something else.
The first thing Taehyun noticed was that Soobin was humming.
It was barely audible.
A soft tune drifting through the apartment while morning sunlight filtered between the curtains.
Taehyun stood frozen in the hallway, toothbrush hanging from the corner of his mouth.
"...You're humming."
Soobin looked up from where he was sitting on the windowsill.
"I am?"
"You are."
"I didn't realize."
He stopped immediately.
The apartment fell silent.
"...Why did you stop?"
Soobin looked almost embarrassed.
"I thought it might be annoying."
"It wasn't."
"It wasn't?"
Taehyun shook his head.
"It was nice."
A shy smile slowly appeared on Soobin's face.
"I think..."
He looked out toward the ocean.
"...I used to hum that song."
"You remember it?"
"No."
"I just..."
He frowned.
"It comes into my head every now and then."
"You don't know where from?"
"No."
"But every time it rains..."
His voice became thoughtful.
"...I find myself humming it."
Taehyun made a mental note of it.
Rain.
The melody.
Another fragment.
Maybe another memory waiting to be uncovered.
Life settled into something unexpectedly comfortable.
Taehyun attended university.
Worked on his thesis.
Complained about deadlines.
Returned home.
Soobin waited.
Somehow, after only a week, they had developed routines without ever discussing them.
Every morning Taehyun said goodbye before leaving.
Every evening Soobin greeted him from somewhere inside the apartment.
Sometimes the couch.
Sometimes the kitchen.
Once from inside the bathroom simply because he had wanted to see Taehyun nearly fall over in surprise.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"I absolutely do."
"You brought me strawberry milk yesterday."
"...That's unrelated."
"You remembered I said I liked the smell."
"...Still unrelated."
Soobin had laughed for nearly five minutes.
One evening, Taehyun came home carrying three paper bags.
"I'm back."
"I'm in the bedroom."
"You say that like it's normal."
"I think we're past pretending this isn't normal."
Taehyun smiled despite himself.
"I bought something."
"What?"
He walked into the bedroom.
Soobin was sitting on the floor beside the bed, reading one of Taehyun's mystery novels.
Or rather...
Pretending to.
He could turn pages occasionally if he concentrated hard enough.
It had taken almost an hour to finish ten pages.
Still, he insisted it was worth it.
"What did you buy?"
Taehyun held up the bags.
"Clothes."
"...Congratulations?"
"For you."
The smile slipped from Soobin's face.
"...For me?"
"I've noticed."
"What?"
"You've worn the same sweater every day."
Soobin looked down at himself.
"I..."
He laughed quietly.
"I suppose I have."
"I figured if you're going to haunt me..."
"So dramatic."
"...You should at least have options."
Taehyun placed the bags on the bed.
"I wasn't sure what you'd like."
"I guessed."
There were simple sweaters.
Comfortable hoodies.
A pair of loose sweatpants.
Nothing flashy.
Just warm, everyday clothes.
Soobin stared at them.
"They're..."
He reached out instinctively.
His fingers passed straight through the fabric.
His hand stopped.
The smile disappeared.
"Oh."
The apartment became quiet.
Taehyun's own smile faded almost immediately.
He hadn't thought about that.
He had been so caught up in the idea that...
He hadn't considered...
"You can't..."
"No."
Soobin withdrew his hand.
"I can't."
The words were gentle.
Not bitter.
Which somehow made them hurt more.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize."
"I forgot."
"No."
Soobin looked at the bags with soft eyes.
"You remembered."
His voice trembled ever so slightly.
"That's different."
He smiled again.
A little sadly.
"No one's bought me clothes in twenty years."
Taehyun didn't know what to say.
Instead, he quietly folded the hoodies and placed them inside the wardrobe anyway.
"Maybe one day."
He wasn't sure why he said it.
Maybe because he wanted to believe it.
Maybe because seeing Soobin disappointed bothered him more than it should have.
Soobin looked at the neatly folded clothes.
"...Maybe."
That night the electricity went out.
The lights flickered once.
Twice.
Then everything went black.
The apartment fell into complete darkness.
"Oh, come on."
Taehyun sighed.
"The landlord mentioned this happened sometimes."
"So now what?"
"I find the flashlight."
"You remember where it is?"
"...No."
"So you're going to walk into furniture."
"...Probably."
Soobin couldn't help laughing.
"I'll guide you."
"You can see in the dark?"
"Ghost privilege."
"I don't think that's a real thing."
"It is now."
Following Soobin's directions, Taehyun carefully shuffled across the apartment.
"A little left."
"I am left."
"Your other left."
"I hate when people say that."
"There."
"The cabinet."
"No."
"The other cabinet."
"There are too many cabinets."
Eventually Taehyun found the flashlight.
Its beam cut through the darkness.
"There."
He grinned triumphantly.
"I survived."
"I never doubted you."
"You absolutely did."
"I absolutely did."
They laughed.
The power still hadn't returned.
Outside, rain had begun falling again.
Heavy enough to blur the city lights beyond the windows.
Taehyun lit a few candles anyway.
Their warm glow filled the apartment with flickering gold.
"It feels..."
He looked around.
"...Cozy."
"I was thinking the same thing."
The rain drummed softly against the glass.
The candles danced.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
It wasn't uncomfortable.
It never seemed to be anymore.
Eventually Taehyun broke the silence.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"What do you miss most?"
The question lingered between them.
Soobin looked toward the rain.
"I've thought about that."
"And?"
"I don't think..."
He smiled faintly.
"...I miss one thing."
"What do you mean?"
"I miss..."
He searched for the words.
"...possibilities."
Taehyun frowned.
"So many things have happened in twenty years."
"People I never met."
"Places I never saw."
"Music I never heard."
"Books that didn't exist."
"I don't even know what I've missed."
He laughed quietly.
"I suppose that's the hardest part."
Taehyun listened without interrupting.
"I've watched seasons change through this window."
"I've watched children grow into adults."
"I've watched neighbors move away."
"I've watched buildings disappear."
"But I never..."
His voice became almost impossibly soft.
"...got to move with them."
The words settled heavily inside the room.
Taehyun looked at Soobin.
Really looked at him.
He always smiled.
He joked.
He teased.
He rarely complained.
Yet beneath all of that...
Was a loneliness so profound that Taehyun wasn't sure another person could ever truly understand it.
Without thinking, he spoke.
"We'll figure it out."
Soobin looked at him.
"What?"
"Why you're here."
"Why you can't leave."
"Why you forgot."
"We'll figure all of it out."
The certainty in Taehyun's voice surprised even himself.
Soobin stared at him for a long moment.
Then lowered his eyes.
"You say 'we' a lot."
Taehyun blinked.
"...Do I?"
"You do."
"You never say 'you.'"
"You always say 'we.'"
He smiled.
"I like that."
Taehyun felt strangely warm.
"It would be rude to make you solve your own haunting."
Soobin laughed.
"Is that your professional opinion?"
"No."
"My professional opinion is that my patient is very strange."
"Oh, now I'm your patient?"
"No."
"So what am I?"
The question was playful.
Light.
But Taehyun found himself thinking about it.
What was Soobin?
A ghost?
His roommate?
A mystery?
A friend?
The answer came far more easily than he expected.
"You're..."
He looked at Soobin.
"...my friend."
The room became completely still.
Soobin stopped smiling.
Not because he disliked the answer.
Because he had almost forgotten what that word felt like.
Friend.
Twenty years.
Twenty years without hearing anyone call him that.
His eyes stung.
He blinked quickly.
"I..."
His voice came out rough.
"...I'd really like that."
Taehyun smiled.
"I'd really like that too."
Outside, thunder rolled over the sea.
Inside Apartment 304, the ghost who had spent two decades believing he had been forgotten quietly realized that, for the first time since waking up alone in those walls, someone was choosing to stay.
And neither of them noticed that the distance between where they stood had become smaller than it had ever been before.
Three weeks.
That was how long Taehyun had lived in Apartment 304.
Three weeks since he had discovered he shared his home with a ghost.
Three weeks since loneliness had quietly stopped living there.
Saturday mornings quickly became Taehyun's favorite.
No lectures.
No meetings with his advisor.
No papers waiting to be submitted.
Just the apartment, the sound of waves outside, and a routine neither of them had consciously created.
Taehyun would make coffee.
Soobin would sit on the kitchen counter, watching with genuine curiosity despite having seen the process dozens of times.
"You use too much sugar."
"I like sweet coffee."
"That's not coffee anymore."
"It absolutely is."
"It is dessert pretending to be coffee."
Taehyun scoffed.
"You sound eighty."
"I might be."
"Fair point."
They both laughed.
"So."
Taehyun leaned against the counter.
"What should we do today?"
"What do normal roommates do?"
"They don't haunt each other."
"I think you're avoiding my question."
Taehyun hummed.
"We could clean."
"No."
"Study."
"Definitely no."
"Watch a movie."
Soobin's face brightened.
"I'd like that."
Half an hour later, Taehyun was scrolling through streaming services.
"There are too many choices."
"There weren't this many channels before."
"You remember television?"
"Barely."
"I think."
Again.
That phrase.
I think.
Almost every memory Soobin had began with those two words.
It frustrated Taehyun more than he admitted.
Fragments.
Always fragments.
Never enough.
"What about this one?"
He pointed toward an old romantic comedy.
Soobin tilted his head.
"I don't know it."
"Neither do I."
"Perfect."
The movie began.
It wasn't particularly good.
The acting was dramatic.
The dialogue was predictable.
Halfway through, both of them were making sarcastic comments at every scene.
"Nobody says that."
"No human being has ever spoken like that."
"He met her yesterday."
"And now he's proposing."
"They skipped several important conversations."
"I don't think that's healthy."
Taehyun laughed so hard he nearly spilled his coffee.
"You analyze relationships more than I do."
"I've had twenty years to observe people through windows."
"...That's actually a little creepy."
"I know."
By the time the credits rolled, neither of them could remember the plot.
Only that they had spent two hours laughing together.
That afternoon, Taehyun decided to reorganize his bookshelf.
Or rather...
He started.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"Do you remember where this goes?"
Soobin looked over.
"Third shelf."
"Between the red one and the blue one."
Taehyun blinked.
"You remember my bookshelf?"
"I remember all of it."
"You've memorized it?"
"I was bored."
"...Right."
He handed another book toward the shelf.
"So this one?"
"Second shelf."
"Left side."
"Next to the psychology textbook."
Taehyun followed the instructions.
"...You're right."
"I know."
"How?"
"I've reorganized them several times while you were gone."
Taehyun stared.
"You what?"
"You kept changing the order."
"I was fixing it."
"You've been judging my organization?"
"I've been improving it."
"My system made sense."
"So did mine."
"It absolutely did not."
"It absolutely did."
For nearly twenty minutes they argued over alphabetical order versus genre.
Neither of them won.
Eventually they compromised.
Mostly because Taehyun gave up.
Later that evening, the apartment grew unusually quiet.
Taehyun sat at the dining table, reading through case studies for his thesis.
Soobin wandered aimlessly through the living room.
It wasn't unusual.
Sometimes he simply...
Walked.
Twenty years trapped in the same space had left him with habits that no longer served any purpose.
He would walk from the window...
To the hallway.
From the hallway...
To the kitchen.
Back to the window.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Taehyun noticed after nearly ten minutes.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"You've walked the same path fourteen times."
"So?"
"...Why?"
Soobin stopped.
He looked around the apartment.
"I..."
His smile faded slightly.
"I guess I forgot I don't have anywhere to go."
The words landed harder than either of them expected.
Taehyun closed the notebook.
"I didn't mean..."
"I know."
Soobin smiled again.
"It's just habit."
"I used to imagine..."
He looked toward the apartment door.
"...that if I kept walking..."
"...eventually I'd reach it."
Silence.
"But I never do."
Taehyun's chest tightened.
He had become so accustomed to seeing Soobin every day that he sometimes forgot.
Forgot that these walls were a prison.
Forgot that every room they laughed in...
Every conversation they shared...
Ended at the front door.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"What if we try again?"
"The door?"
"Yeah."
"You've already seen."
"I know."
"But..."
Taehyun stood.
"I want to understand."
Soobin hesitated.
Then nodded.
They walked together toward the entrance.
The apartment suddenly felt smaller.
The front door stood only a few steps away.
Soobin reached the invisible limit.
Stopped.
He inhaled slowly.
"I'm going to push."
Taehyun watched carefully.
Soobin stepped forward.
Nothing.
His body refused.
Not dramatically.
It simply...
Wouldn't.
Like every instinct inside him screamed not to continue.
His expression tightened with effort.
One foot lifted.
Shook.
Dropped back onto the floor.
"I..."
A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead.
Which surprised Taehyun.
"Ghosts sweat?"
"I don't..."
Soobin laughed breathlessly.
"...usually."
He tried again.
Nothing.
Another step.
Nothing.
His breathing became uneven.
Then suddenly...
His hand shot forward instinctively.
Straight toward Taehyun.
Without thinking, Taehyun grabbed it.
The moment their hands met...
Everything changed.
A violent rush of freezing air swept through the apartment.
The lights flickered.
Every book on the shelves rattled.
The windows trembled.
A deafening ringing filled Taehyun's ears.
His vision blurred.
Soobin gasped.
Not from pain.
From shock.
Warmth.
His eyes flew to where their hands were joined.
He could feel it.
Not perfectly.
Not completely.
But...
Something.
The pressure of fingers.
Heat.
Human contact.
His eyes widened.
"I..."
His voice broke.
"I can..."
Taehyun barely had time to react.
A blinding flash exploded behind Soobin's eyes.
Not in the apartment.
In his mind.
A little boy.
Running through a park.
Someone laughing.
A woman calling...
"Bin-ah!"
The smell of freshly baked bread.
Hands clapping.
Birthday candles.
Then...
Fire.
Smoke.
Someone shouting.
"Run!"
The images vanished as suddenly as they had appeared.
Soobin stumbled backward.
Their hands separated.
The apartment became quiet once more.
The lights stopped flickering.
The books settled.
The ringing disappeared.
For several long seconds, neither of them spoke.
Taehyun's pulse raced.
"Soobin?"
The ghost looked completely frozen.
His eyes were wet.
"I remembered."
Taehyun's breath caught.
"What?"
"I..."
Soobin raised a trembling hand to his own face.
"I remembered someone's voice."
He looked up.
"They called me Bin-ah."
A shaky laugh escaped him.
"They..."
His shoulders began trembling.
"They called me Bin-ah."
It wasn't much.
One nickname.
One memory.
Taehyun did not sleep.
He tried.
He changed into comfortable clothes.
Brushed his teeth.
Turned off the lights.
Lay in bed.
Closed his eyes.
Opened them again thirty seconds later.
The memory of what had happened at the front door replayed over and over inside his mind.
The freezing wind.
The lights flickering.
The apartment shaking.
Most of all...
Soobin's hand.
It had been cold.
Not painfully so.
Just...
Cold enough to make Taehyun instinctively want to warm it.
He sat up with a sigh.
The clock read 2:08 a.m.
Giving up, he walked into the living room.
The apartment was bathed in moonlight.
Soobin stood in front of the window, staring at the ocean.
He didn't turn around when Taehyun approached.
"I figured you'd still be awake."
Taehyun stopped beside him.
"I could say the same thing."
"I don't really sleep."
"...Right."
The words slipped out before Taehyun could stop them.
He was still getting used to that.
Soobin smiled faintly.
"I don't mind."
"You don't?"
"I've had twenty years to adjust."
Taehyun looked out the window.
The sea was calm tonight.
Moonlight painted silver streaks across the surface.
Far away, a lighthouse blinked steadily.
"So..."
Taehyun broke the silence.
"What do you remember?"
Soobin was quiet for a long time.
"So little."
"But more than I did yesterday."
He closed his eyes.
"I remember grass."
"A park."
"A swing."
"There was..."
His brows knitted together.
"...a woman."
"I couldn't see her face."
"But I knew..."
His voice became almost impossibly soft.
"...she loved me."
Taehyun didn't interrupt.
"I remember someone calling me Bin-ah."
"I remember laughing."
"And..."
His expression twisted slightly.
"...fire."
The last word barely left his lips.
Taehyun turned toward him.
"What about the fire?"
"I don't know."
"I just..."
Soobin pressed a hand against his temple.
"My head hurts whenever I try."
"You don't have to force it."
"I know."
"But..."
His eyes remained fixed on the ocean.
"I've spent twenty years trying to remember who I was."
"I finally get one piece back."
"I don't want to lose it."
Taehyun understood.
He understood far more than he wanted to.
When his parents died, people had constantly told him to remember the good times.
As though grief didn't slowly blur memories all on its own.
There were already things about his mother he struggled to recall.
The exact sound of her laughter.
The way she pronounced certain words.
He hated it.
He couldn't imagine forgetting almost everything.
The next morning, Taehyun skipped breakfast.
He opened his laptop instead.
"What are you doing?"
Soobin asked.
"Research."
"About ghosts?"
"No."
Taehyun adjusted his glasses.
"About you."
Soobin smiled.
"I don't think Google has me."
"We're about to find out."
He typed carefully.
Apartment fire twenty years ago. Haedong Apartments. Seoul. Fatality.
Hundreds of results appeared.
Most were unrelated.
He refined the search.
Changed the dates.
Added the building's address.
After nearly twenty minutes...
One article appeared.
Tiny.
Buried beneath newer results.
His heartbeat sped up.
"I found something."
Soobin immediately moved beside him.
"What does it say?"
Taehyun clicked.
A grainy newspaper scan filled the screen.
The headline read:
Young Man Dies in Apartment Fire
The article wasn't long.
A fire had broken out shortly after midnight.
One casualty.
Several minor injuries.
Cause unknown.
The victim's name...
Taehyun's eyes widened.
"...Choi Soobin."
The apartment became completely silent.
Soobin stared at his own name.
Like he was reading about a stranger.
"...That's me."
"I think so."
Taehyun continued reading.
Age twenty-seven.
University graduate.
No surviving immediate family listed.
The fire had destroyed most of the apartment before firefighters arrived.
The case had been closed as an accident.
"So..."
Soobin whispered.
"I really did die."
Taehyun frowned.
Something bothered him.
He scrolled back upward.
Read the article again.
Then again.
"What?"
Soobin asked.
"...This doesn't make sense."
"What doesn't?"
"The article says there was one body."
"So?"
"So how did they identify you?"
"What do you mean?"
"The apartment burned."
"The report says the fire spread quickly."
"So?"
Taehyun leaned closer to the screen.
"There isn't a single mention of dental records."
"No DNA."
"No fingerprints."
"Nothing."
"So how did they know it was you?"
Soobin looked confused.
"They just..."
He stopped.
His own expression slowly changed.
"...They assumed?"
Taehyun nodded slowly.
"Maybe."
He opened another article.
Then another.
Hours passed.
The more they searched...
The stranger the case became.
No photographs of Soobin.
No obituary.
No funeral announcement.
No interviews with friends.
Nothing.
It was as though...
The entire world had accepted his death without asking questions.
"That's..."
Taehyun leaned back.
"...odd."
"So you think something happened?"
"I don't know."
"But I know investigations."
"If someone dies in a fire..."
He tapped the screen.
"...there should be more."
"There isn't."
Soobin looked at the old newspaper clipping again.
His own name stared back at him.
Choi Soobin.
Twenty-seven.
Deceased.
It felt wrong.
Not because he doubted he had died.
But because...
Reading it stirred absolutely nothing inside him.
No recognition.
No emotion.
No memory.
Just...
Emptiness.
That afternoon, Taehyun left for campus.
Before leaving, he paused at the door.
"I'll be back around six."
"I'll be here."
Taehyun smiled.
"I know."
He opened the door.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"Don't think too hard."
"You'll give yourself another headache."
Soobin laughed.
"I'll try."
The apartment became quiet again.
He wandered toward the bookshelf.
Stopped.
Looked at his own hands.
Yesterday...
He had felt Taehyun.
Only for a moment.
But he had.
It hadn't been his imagination.
He slowly reached toward the bookshelf.
His fingers passed through the wood.
Toward the couch.
Nothing.
The coffee table.
Nothing.
He sighed.
"So..."
He muttered to himself.
"...it's only him."
He wasn't sure whether that comforted him or frightened him.
If Taehyun really was the only person capable of helping him remember...
What would happen if Taehyun moved away?
Graduated.
Found a job somewhere else.
Forgot about Apartment 304.
Forgot about him.
The thought made something inside him twist painfully.
He had spent twenty years alone.
Now the idea of returning to that silence felt unbearable.
Meanwhile, across the city, Taehyun sat through exactly forty-three minutes of a lecture before realizing he hadn't heard a single word.
His notebook remained blank.
His professor called on him twice.
He answered automatically.
His mind remained somewhere else.
Apartment 304.
Soobin.
The fire.
His friend, Minseo, leaned over once class ended.
"You okay?"
"Hm?"
"You've been staring at the same page for an hour."
"I have?"
"You didn't even write anything."
Taehyun looked down.
She was right.
"...Just distracted."
"About your thesis?"
"...Something like that."
"You should get some rest."
He smiled politely.
"I'll survive."
But as he packed his bag...
One thought refused to leave him.
Why him?
Out of every person who had lived in Apartment 304 over twenty years...
Why was he the first one who could see Soobin?
And why did touching him bring back memories?
He had no answers.
Only a growing certainty.
Meeting Soobin had not been an accident.
Somehow...
Their lives had become connected long before either of them understood why.
Only a few seconds.
But after twenty years of darkness...
It was the brightest thing Soobin had seen.
Taehyun stared at his own hand.
The one that had touched Soobin.
Slowly, almost fearfully, he looked back at him.
"It happened when we..."
He couldn't finish the sentence.
Soobin nodded.
"When you touched me."
For the first time since meeting him, Taehyun realized something that made his heartbeat quicken.
Maybe he wasn't just the only person who could see Soobin.
Maybe...
He was the only person who could bring him back.
Three weeks.
That was how long Taehyun had lived in Apartment 304.
Three weeks since he had discovered he shared his home with a ghost.
Three weeks since loneliness had quietly stopped living there.
Saturday mornings quickly became Taehyun's favorite.
No lectures.
No meetings with his advisor.
No papers waiting to be submitted.
Just the apartment, the sound of waves outside, and a routine neither of them had consciously created.
Taehyun would make coffee.
Soobin would sit on the kitchen counter, watching with genuine curiosity despite having seen the process dozens of times.
"You use too much sugar."
"I like sweet coffee."
"That's not coffee anymore."
"It absolutely is."
"It is dessert pretending to be coffee."
Taehyun scoffed.
"You sound eighty."
"I might be."
"Fair point."
They both laughed.
"So."
Taehyun leaned against the counter.
"What should we do today?"
"What do normal roommates do?"
"They don't haunt each other."
"I think you're avoiding my question."
Taehyun hummed.
"We could clean."
"No."
"Study."
"Definitely no."
"Watch a movie."
Soobin's face brightened.
"I'd like that."
Half an hour later, Taehyun was scrolling through streaming services.
"There are too many choices."
"There weren't this many channels before."
"You remember television?"
"Barely."
"I think."
Again.
That phrase.
I think.
Almost every memory Soobin had began with those two words.
It frustrated Taehyun more than he admitted.
Fragments.
Always fragments.
Never enough.
"What about this one?"
He pointed toward an old romantic comedy.
Soobin tilted his head.
"I don't know it."
"Neither do I."
"Perfect."
The movie began.
It wasn't particularly good.
The acting was dramatic.
The dialogue was predictable.
Halfway through, both of them were making sarcastic comments at every scene.
"Nobody says that."
"No human being has ever spoken like that."
"He met her yesterday."
"And now he's proposing."
"They skipped several important conversations."
"I don't think that's healthy."
Taehyun laughed so hard he nearly spilled his coffee.
"You analyze relationships more than I do."
"I've had twenty years to observe people through windows."
"...That's actually a little creepy."
"I know."
By the time the credits rolled, neither of them could remember the plot.
Only that they had spent two hours laughing together.
That afternoon, Taehyun decided to reorganize his bookshelf.
Or rather...
He started.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"Do you remember where this goes?"
Soobin looked over.
"Third shelf."
"Between the red one and the blue one."
Taehyun blinked.
"You remember my bookshelf?"
"I remember all of it."
"You've memorized it?"
"I was bored."
"...Right."
He handed another book toward the shelf.
"So this one?"
"Second shelf."
"Left side."
"Next to the psychology textbook."
Taehyun followed the instructions.
"...You're right."
"I know."
"How?"
"I've reorganized them several times while you were gone."
Taehyun stared.
"You what?"
"You kept changing the order."
"I was fixing it."
"You've been judging my organization?"
"I've been improving it."
"My system made sense."
"So did mine."
"It absolutely did not."
"It absolutely did."
For nearly twenty minutes they argued over alphabetical order versus genre.
Neither of them won.
Eventually they compromised.
Mostly because Taehyun gave up.
Later that evening, the apartment grew unusually quiet.
Taehyun sat at the dining table, reading through case studies for his thesis.
Soobin wandered aimlessly through the living room.
It wasn't unusual.
Sometimes he simply...
Walked.
Twenty years trapped in the same space had left him with habits that no longer served any purpose.
He would walk from the window...
To the hallway.
From the hallway...
To the kitchen.
Back to the window.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Taehyun noticed after nearly ten minutes.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"You've walked the same path fourteen times."
"So?"
"...Why?"
Soobin stopped.
He looked around the apartment.
"I..."
His smile faded slightly.
"I guess I forgot I don't have anywhere to go."
The words landed harder than either of them expected.
Taehyun closed the notebook.
"I didn't mean..."
"I know."
Soobin smiled again.
"It's just habit."
"I used to imagine..."
He looked toward the apartment door.
"...that if I kept walking..."
"...eventually I'd reach it."
Silence.
"But I never do."
Taehyun's chest tightened.
He had become so accustomed to seeing Soobin every day that he sometimes forgot.
Forgot that these walls were a prison.
Forgot that every room they laughed in...
Every conversation they shared...
Ended at the front door.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"What if we try again?"
"The door?"
"Yeah."
"You've already seen."
"I know."
"But..."
Taehyun stood.
"I want to understand."
Soobin hesitated.
Then nodded.
They walked together toward the entrance.
The apartment suddenly felt smaller.
The front door stood only a few steps away.
Soobin reached the invisible limit.
Stopped.
He inhaled slowly.
"I'm going to push."
Taehyun watched carefully.
Soobin stepped forward.
Nothing.
His body refused.
Not dramatically.
It simply...
Wouldn't.
Like every instinct inside him screamed not to continue.
His expression tightened with effort.
One foot lifted.
Shook.
Dropped back onto the floor.
"I..."
A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead.
Which surprised Taehyun.
"Ghosts sweat?"
"I don't..."
Soobin laughed breathlessly.
"...usually."
He tried again.
Nothing.
Another step.
Nothing.
His breathing became uneven.
Then suddenly...
His hand shot forward instinctively.
Straight toward Taehyun.
Without thinking, Taehyun grabbed it.
The moment their hands met...
Everything changed.
A violent rush of freezing air swept through the apartment.
The lights flickered.
Every book on the shelves rattled.
The windows trembled.
A deafening ringing filled Taehyun's ears.
His vision blurred.
Soobin gasped.
Not from pain.
From shock.
Warmth.
His eyes flew to where their hands were joined.
He could feel it.
Not perfectly.
Not completely.
But...
Something.
The pressure of fingers.
Heat.
Human contact.
His eyes widened.
"I..."
His voice broke.
"I can..."
Taehyun barely had time to react.
A blinding flash exploded behind Soobin's eyes.
Not in the apartment.
In his mind.
A little boy.
Running through a park.
Someone laughing.
A woman calling...
"Bin-ah!"
The smell of freshly baked bread.
Hands clapping.
Birthday candles.
Then...
Fire.
Smoke.
Someone shouting.
"Run!"
The images vanished as suddenly as they had appeared.
Soobin stumbled backward.
Their hands separated.
The apartment became quiet once more.
The lights stopped flickering.
The books settled.
The ringing disappeared.
For several long seconds, neither of them spoke.
Taehyun's pulse raced.
"Soobin?"
The ghost looked completely frozen.
His eyes were wet.
"I remembered."
Taehyun's breath caught.
"What?"
"I..."
Soobin raised a trembling hand to his own face.
"I remembered someone's voice."
He looked up.
"They called me Bin-ah."
A shaky laugh escaped him.
"They..."
His shoulders began trembling.
"They called me Bin-ah."
It wasn't much.
One nickname.
One memory.
Only a few seconds.
But after twenty years of darkness...
It was the brightest thing Soobin had seen.
Taehyun stared at his own hand.
The one that had touched Soobin.
Slowly, almost fearfully, he looked back at him.
"It happened when we..."
He couldn't finish the sentence.
Soobin nodded.
"When you touched me."
For the first time since meeting him, Taehyun realized something that made his heartbeat quicken.
Maybe he wasn't just the only person who could **see** Soobin.
Maybe...
He was the only person who could bring him back.
Saturday arrived with clear skies and a cool breeze drifting in from the sea.
Taehyun had been awake since six.
Not because he wanted to be.
Because his brain refused to let him sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Soobin's face from two nights ago.
"Bin-ah."
One nickname.
One tiny memory.
It wasn't enough.
But it proved something.
His memories were still there.
Somewhere.
Hidden beneath whatever had happened twenty years ago.
Taehyun sat at the dining table with his laptop open, several notebooks spread around him, and an empty mug of coffee that had long since gone cold.
Soobin wandered over.
"What are you reading now?"
"Building records."
"You've been reading those for an hour."
"I know."
"You've frowned at the screen thirty-seven times."
Taehyun looked up.
"You counted?"
"I got bored."
A smile tugged at Taehyun's lips.
"You really need hobbies."
"I thought haunting you was my hobby."
"I'd rather you picked knitting."
"I don't think ghosts can knit."
"We don't actually know that."
Soobin laughed.
"I suppose we don't."
He leaned over Taehyun's shoulder to look at the screen.
"I still think it's strange."
"What is?"
"The newspaper."
"It felt..."
He searched for the right word.
"...empty."
Taehyun nodded.
"I thought the same thing."
"The article barely says anything about you."
"It doesn't mention your university."
"Your friends."
"Your family."
"There wasn't even a funeral notice."
Soobin fell quiet.
"I wonder..."
His voice became distant.
"...if anyone missed me."
Taehyun looked away from the screen.
"You don't know that they didn't."
"I don't know that they did either."
The words sat heavily between them.
An hour later, Taehyun closed the laptop.
"I'm going out."
Soobin looked up immediately.
"Where?"
"The university archive first."
"Then the city records office."
"And after that..."
He picked up a folded blueprint.
"...the basement."
"The basement?"
"I found something interesting."
He spread the blueprint across the table.
"The original building plan."
Soobin leaned closer.
"The layout is different."
"It is."
Taehyun pointed toward the drawing.
"See this?"
"There used to be another hallway beneath the building."
"But today's floor plan doesn't have it."
"So they sealed it."
"When?"
Taehyun looked at him.
"About twenty years ago."
The smile disappeared from Soobin's face.
"The same year."
Taehyun nodded.
"I don't know if it's connected."
"But I want to find out."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Soobin looked toward the apartment door.
"I wish I could come."
The sentence was quiet.
Almost absentminded.
Taehyun's expression softened.
"I know."
"I hate this."
Soobin laughed weakly.
"I know."
"I keep forgetting."
His eyes rested on the front door.
"It still feels like..."
He hesitated.
"...if I really tried..."
"I could walk through it."
"But I can't."
He had tried again that morning.
Only once.
Just to see.
His body had stopped at exactly the same place.
The invisible barrier had not weakened.
Not even a little.
Taehyun stood.
Walked over.
He stopped beside Soobin, following his gaze to the front door.
"When I get back..."
He smiled.
"...I'll tell you everything."
Soobin returned the smile.
"I'll be waiting."
"I know."
The apartment became silent after Taehyun left.
The click of the lock echoed through the rooms.
Soobin stood in the hallway for several seconds.
Then...
Without thinking...
He walked toward the front door.
Stopped.
Reached out.
His fingers rested against the wood.
The door itself wasn't the problem.
He could touch it.
Open it.
Close it.
He had done that before.
The problem was what lay beyond it.
He slowly tried taking one step into the hallway.
Nothing.
His body refused.
Not painfully.
Not violently.
Simply...
No.
As though every part of his existence had become anchored inside Apartment 304.
He closed his eyes.
Pushed harder.
Still nothing.
After a full minute, he gave up.
"...I know."
He whispered to the empty hallway.
"I know."
The words weren't directed at anyone.
Just himself.
He closed the door.
The apartment felt larger when Taehyun was inside.
Without him...
It became quiet again.
Not as lonely as before.
Never as lonely.
But quiet enough that Soobin found himself listening for footsteps that wouldn't return for hours.
He wandered aimlessly.
Straightened books.
Folded a blanket that did not need folding.
Stood by the window.
Watched people walking along the seaside.
A little girl ran ahead of her parents, laughing as she chased pigeons across the pavement.
An elderly couple held hands.
Two students argued over something while sharing a bag of chips.
Life continued.
Always just beyond his reach.
He rested his forehead against the cool glass.
"I hope you find something."
The university archive yielded almost nothing.
The city records office was even less helpful.
By the time Taehyun reached Haedong Apartments again, the sun had already begun to sink toward the horizon.
The landlord looked up from his desk.
"Back already?"
"I wanted to ask a favor."
"Hm?"
"I noticed the building plans mention another hallway in the basement."
The older man frowned.
"You're really serious about this university project."
"I am."
"Can I take a look downstairs?"
The landlord scratched his chin.
"It hasn't been touched in years."
"I won't be long."
After a moment, the older man reached beneath the desk and handed over a heavy ring of keys.
"Careful."
"The lights barely work."
The basement was colder than Taehyun thought.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering every few seconds.
Rows of old furniture stood beneath dusty sheets.
Broken shelves leaned against concrete walls.
He switched on his flashlight.
The beam swept slowly across the room.
Nothing.
Old pipes.
Storage boxes.
A rusted bicycle.
Then...
There.
Near the far wall.
The bricks changed color.
Someone had sealed an opening.
Taehyun walked closer.
The blueprint had been right.
A hallway had once existed there.
He crouched, running his fingers along the rough cement.
The repairs looked hurried.
Uneven.
Almost careless.
As though whoever closed it wanted the job finished as quickly as possible.
His flashlight drifted downward.
Something reflected the light.
A tiny glimmer beneath years of dust.
He frowned.
"What..."
He brushed the dirt away with his sleeve.
A small silver key.
Attached to a faded blue whale keychain.
It looked ordinary.
Yet something about it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
He carefully picked it up.
Cold.
Very cold.
Even after sitting untouched for decades.
By the time Taehyun unlocked Apartment 304, it was almost dark.
"I'm home."
The words had barely left his mouth before Soobin appeared from the living room.
"You're late."
"I know."
"Did you eat?"
"No."
"You skipped lunch."
"...Maybe."
"I knew it."
Despite the gentle scolding, Soobin's eyes quickly searched Taehyun's face.
"Did you find anything?"
Instead of answering, Taehyun reached into his coat pocket.
"I found this."
He opened his hand.
The silver key rested in his palm.
The moment Soobin saw the blue whale keychain...
His entire body went rigid.
His breathing caught.
His eyes widened with disbelief.
"No..."
The word came out as a whisper.
Taehyun looked up.
"Soobin?"
"I..."
He took one shaky step forward.
His gaze never left the key.
"I know that."
"You do?"
"I..."
His hand trembled.
The room around him disappeared.
Warm sunshine.
A bright blue backpack.
The whale keychain swinging from its zipper as he ran across a school playground.
A man's warm laughter behind him.
"Bin-ah!"
He turned.
A tall man crouched with his arms open.
Smiling.
"You're going to lose your house key again."
Young Soobin laughed.
"I won't!"
"You said that yesterday too."
The man reached over and flicked the tiny whale charm with one finger.
"Then keep this on it. You'll always know it's yours."
The memory shattered.
Soobin staggered backward.
A tear slipped down his cheek before he even realized he was crying.
"My..."
He laughed through the tears.
"...My father."
Taehyun's breath caught.
"You remember him?"
"Not..."
Soobin pressed a hand against his mouth.
"Not his face."
"But..."
His shoulders shook.
"...His voice."
"He gave me that."
"He gave me the whale."
He looked at the tiny keychain as though it were the most precious thing in the world.
"He always..."
Another laugh escaped him.
"...He always teased me because I kept losing my keys."
Taehyun felt something warm spread through his chest.
It wasn't much.
A few seconds.
A voice.
A memory.
But it was real.
A piece of Soobin had come back.
And for the first time since they met...
The apartment no longer felt like a place where memories only disappeared.
Little by little...
They were beginning to return.
The key remained on the coffee table long after the conversation had ended.
Neither of them wanted to put it away.
It was such a small thing.
A piece of silver metal.
A faded blue whale.
The paint had chipped around one fin, and the ring holding it to the key had rusted over the years.
To anyone else, it would have looked worthless.
To Soobin...
It was proof.
Proof that he had once been someone's son.
Someone had loved him enough to tease him for losing his keys.
Someone had smiled at him.
Someone had laughed with him.
He wasn't just a name in an old newspaper.
He had lived.
Taehyun quietly watched him.
"So..."
He spoke carefully.
"How are you feeling?"
Soobin didn't answer immediately.
He picked up the key.
Or rather...
He tried.
His fingers passed straight through it.
The smile on his face faltered.
"...I forgot."
Without a word, Taehyun picked up the key himself.
He held it out.
"So you can look at it."
Soobin smiled gratefully.
"Thank you."
He leaned closer, studying every tiny scratch on the whale charm.
"I wonder..."
He murmured.
"...if my father picked this because I liked whales."
"Or because he liked them."
Taehyun smiled.
"We'll figure that out too."
"You really believe that."
"I do."
"You've never doubted it."
Taehyun thought for a moment.
Then shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
He looked down at the key resting in his palm.
"I think..."
"I'd hate the idea of someone disappearing completely."
Soobin looked at him quietly.
"If there are people who remembered you once..."
Taehyun continued.
"...Then I want to find them."
The room fell silent.
Soobin looked away before Taehyun could notice his eyes beginning to sting again.
The next morning, Taehyun woke to the smell of pancakes.
He frowned.
"...Impossible."
He followed the scent into the kitchen.
Nothing.
No pancakes.
No frying pan.
No breakfast.
Just Soobin sitting on the counter with a confused expression.
"Do you smell that?"
Taehyun blinked.
"...You smell it too?"
"It woke me up."
They looked around the apartment.
The smell was unmistakable.
Fresh pancakes.
Butter.
Maple syrup.
Warm milk.
It lingered for only a few seconds.
Then...
It vanished.
As though it had never been there.
Neither of them spoke.
Finally, Soobin whispered,
"I think..."
His eyes had gone distant.
"...My mother used to make those."
Taehyun's heart skipped.
"You remembered?"
"Not really."
"It wasn't..."
He frowned.
"...A memory."
"It was..."
He searched for the words.
"...A feeling."
The warmth of a kitchen.
Morning sunlight.
Someone humming.
The smell of pancakes.
Love.
It had appeared for only a heartbeat.
But it had been there.
"I don't know her face."
"I don't know her voice."
"But..."
He smiled sadly.
"...She made pancakes."
Taehyun realized something.
The memories weren't returning in order.
They were being pulled back by emotions.
A nickname.
A keychain.
A smell.
Tiny pieces.
Like a puzzle scattered across the floor.
That afternoon, rain began falling.
Not heavily.
Just enough to keep most people indoors.
Taehyun curled up on the couch with one of his novels.
Soobin sat beside him.
Not reading.
Just watching the rain.
After a while, he spoke.
"I've been thinking."
"About?"
"You."
Taehyun lowered his book.
"...Should I be worried?"
"Probably."
Taehyun laughed.
"So?"
"Why you?"
There it was again.
The question both of them kept avoiding.
"Out of everyone who lived here..."
Soobin continued quietly.
"...Why can you see me?"
"I don't know."
"And why can you touch me?"
"I don't know."
"Maybe..."
He hesitated.
"...Maybe you knew me."
Taehyun looked surprised.
"You think so?"
"I don't know."
"You'd have been..."
He did the math.
"...Seven?"
"Eight?"
"If we've really been apart for twenty years."
Taehyun frowned.
"I don't remember meeting anyone named Soobin."
"I don't either."
They both smiled.
"Not very helpful."
"Not at all."
Silence returned.
The rain tapped softly against the windows.
Then...
Taehyun closed his book.
"I want to try something."
"What?"
"The touch."
Soobin looked at him.
"You've started calling it that."
"I have."
"I think it's become a scientific experiment."
"It kind of has."
He held out one hand.
Soobin mirrored him.
Their fingers met.
This time...
The warmth came instantly.
No freezing air.
No shaking apartment.
Only a quiet sense of familiarity.
Almost...
Comfort.
Taehyun frowned.
"It feels different."
"Softer."
Soobin nodded.
"I noticed."
Neither let go.
After a few moments, Taehyun asked,
"Do you remember anything?"
Soobin closed his eyes.
Nothing happened.
Then...
Very faintly...
He heard music.
Piano.
Someone practicing the same melody again and again.
A little boy covering his ears dramatically.
"Hyung, you're playing it wrong!"
Someone laughed.
"Am I?"
"Yes!"
"Then come teach me."
The memory faded.
Soobin opened his eyes.
"I remembered..."
"What?"
"A piano."
"And..."
He smiled.
"I think I had a younger brother."
Taehyun's eyes widened.
"You think?"
"I heard someone call me hyung."
His smile slowly grew.
"They sounded..."
His voice became gentle.
"...Annoying."
Taehyun laughed.
"So you definitely loved him."
"I think so."
"You don't sound annoyed."
"I don't."
He looked down at their joined hands.
"I miss him."
The words escaped before he realized it.
"I don't even remember his face."
"But..."
His voice trembled.
"...I miss him."
Taehyun instinctively tightened his grip.
Just slightly.
Enough for Soobin to notice.
Enough for him to look up.
"I'm sorry."
Taehyun said quietly.
"For what?"
"You've lost twenty years."
"I can't give them back."
"No."
Soobin smiled.
"You can't."
"But..."
His thumb brushed gently over the back of Taehyun's hand.
This time, the movement was deliberate.
"I don't think I'm losing today."
Taehyun's breath caught.
Their eyes met.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
There was no dramatic music.
No sudden realization.
Just two people sitting on an old couch while rain fell outside.
Their hands remained intertwined.
Neither seemed to notice that letting go had become more difficult each day.
Not because of magic.
But because somewhere between shared meals, quiet mornings, old memories, and laughter...
Being close to each other had started to feel like the most natural thing in the world.
Neither of them called it love.
Not yet.
But if someone had looked through the apartment window that afternoon, they might have mistaken them for two people who had known each other far longer than a few weeks.
And perhaps, in a way neither of them yet understood...
They had.
Rain continued long into the evening.
The apartment felt smaller on nights like these.
Not in a suffocating way.
In a comforting one.
The sound of water against the windows softened everything.
Even silence.
Taehyun had abandoned his thesis for the night.
His laptop sat closed on the coffee table, forgotten beside two mugs of coffee.
One steaming.
One simply there out of habit.
He still made two cups sometimes.
Not because Soobin could drink.
Because it somehow felt wrong not to.
Soobin smiled every single time.
...
"You know."
Soobin tilted his head.
"I've been wondering something."
Taehyun looked up from his book.
"Should I be worried?"
"You always ask that."
"You usually say yes."
"I wasn't going to this time."
"So?"
"So..."
He hesitated.
"How old are you?"
Taehyun blinked.
"Twenty-six."
"I know."
"I meant..."
He smiled sheepishly.
"...Your birthday."
"Oh."
"February."
"So you're actually still twenty-five?"
"No."
"My birthday already passed."
"So."
He laughed.
"Twenty-six."
Soobin nodded slowly.
"I see."
Taehyun noticed the thoughtful look on his face.
"What?"
"I was trying to figure something out."
"What?"
"If..."
He looked down at his hands.
"...If I really died at twenty-seven."
Taehyun's expression softened.
"...Then?"
"So many years have passed."
He laughed quietly.
"I should be..."
His lips moved silently while he counted.
"...Forty-seven."
The number lingered between them.
Forty-seven.
It sounded strange.
Wrong.
Taehyun looked at him.
He still looked twenty-seven.
His hair hadn't changed.
His face hadn't aged.
Not a single wrinkle.
Nothing.
"I don't feel forty-seven."
Soobin admitted.
"I don't even know what forty-seven is supposed to feel like."
He smiled sadly.
"I still think like I'm twenty-seven."
"I still..."
His eyes wandered toward the rain.
"...expect tomorrow."
Taehyun didn't interrupt.
"I wonder."
Soobin continued quietly.
"What would I look like now?"
"Would I have gray hair?"
"I've always wondered whether I'd age well."
He laughed softly.
"I'll never know."
Something inside Taehyun twisted painfully.
"You might."
Soobin looked back at him.
"What?"
"We still don't know what happened."
"We only know everyone thinks you died."
"So..."
He hesitated.
"...Maybe there are still answers."
Hope.
It was dangerous.
Taehyun knew that.
He also knew he couldn't stop looking.
Later that night, Taehyun found himself studying Soobin.
Not secretly.
Openly.
"What?"
Soobin asked.
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"I know."
"It's rude."
"I know."
"So?"
Taehyun leaned back against the couch.
"I was trying to imagine you at forty-seven."
Soobin laughed.
"Any conclusions?"
"I think..."
He narrowed his eyes dramatically.
"...You'd still have nice hair."
"My greatest achievement."
"And probably glasses."
"I've never worn glasses."
"You look like someone who would."
"What does that even mean?"
"I don't know."
"It just feels right."
Soobin shook his head, smiling.
"And?"
"You'd definitely still wear oversized sweaters."
"I already wear oversized sweaters."
"Exactly."
"So apparently I have no fashion development."
"None."
"I'm offended."
"You'll recover."
"I probably won't."
They both laughed.
It was easy.
Too easy.
Sometimes Taehyun forgot they had only known each other a few weeks.
It felt...
Longer.
That night, after Taehyun had gone to bed, Soobin remained in the living room.
He stood before the large window overlooking the sea.
The city lights reflected against the glass.
His own reflection stared back.
Twenty-seven.
Always twenty-seven.
He lifted one hand to his face.
Touched his cheek.
Nothing had changed.
Not once.
He remembered watching a little boy move into the building years ago.
The child had cried because he was afraid of thunderstorms.
Soobin used to sit by the window every rainy night.
Just in case.
The little boy eventually stopped crying.
Started walking to school alone.
Then university.
Eventually...
He moved away.
His parents had grown older.
Wrinkles had appeared.
Their hair turned gray.
Time had carried all of them forward.
Except him.
"I should have grown older too."
The words escaped into the empty apartment.
"I should have."
He wondered if his father would have gray hair now.
If his younger brother had become taller than him.
If...
His thoughts stopped.
His younger brother.
The memory from earlier returned.
"Hyung, you're playing it wrong!"
So small.
So clear.
So painfully brief.
"I hope..."
He whispered.
"...you had a good life."
He didn't know whether his brother was alive.
Whether he had a family.
Whether he ever stopped missing him.
Or...
Whether he had forgotten Soobin altogether.
The possibility hurt more than he expected.
The next morning, Taehyun walked into the living room to find Soobin still standing by the window.
"You never moved?"
"I did."
"Once."
Taehyun smiled.
"You've been thinking."
"I have."
"Wanna tell me?"
Soobin was quiet.
Then he looked over his shoulder.
"If I really should be forty-seven..."
He smiled faintly.
"...Does it bother you that I'm older than you?"
Taehyun blinked.
"What?"
"I've technically got twenty-one years on you."
Taehyun stared at him for three seconds.
Then burst into laughter.
Not a polite chuckle.
A full laugh that made him lean against the wall.
"Soobin."
"What?"
"You're counting years you didn't get to live."
"I suppose I am."
"You still act twenty-seven."
"I do?"
"You argued with me yesterday because I bought the wrong brand of cereal."
"...It was the wrong brand."
"And you got excited because the bookstore had a cat sleeping in the window."
"It was a very cute cat."
Taehyun shook his head.
"No."
"It doesn't bother me."
"So..."
He smiled warmly.
"You're still just Soobin."
For a moment, Soobin simply looked at him.
Then he smiled.
Small.
Quiet.
But undeniably real.
Somehow...
That answer mattered more than either of them fully understood. It wasn't that Taehyun saw him as twenty-seven, or forty-seven, or as a ghost.
He simply saw him.
And after twenty years of feeling like nothing more than a forgotten shadow inside Apartment 304, that was beginning to feel like the greatest gift anyone had ever given him.
The first sign that something had changed was the sunlight.
Not outside.
Inside the apartment.
For twenty years, the morning sun had crossed the living room exactly the same way.
It slipped through the east-facing windows, stretched across the wooden floor, climbed the couch, and disappeared by noon.
Soobin had watched it thousands of times.
He knew every inch of its path.
Every season.
Every subtle difference between winter and summer.
This morning...
The sunlight touched his shoe.
He froze.
For a second, he thought he had imagined it.
He looked down.
A pale beam rested against the toe of his sneaker.
It lingered there for only a heartbeat before continuing across the floor.
Soobin slowly crouched.
His fingers hovered above the patch of light.
Then he lowered his hand.
Nothing happened.
The sunlight passed through him like always.
He let out a quiet laugh.
"...Still a ghost."
"You've been talking to yourself more."
Taehyun's sleepy voice came from the hallway.
Soobin looked up.
"Good morning."
"Morning."
Taehyun yawned, rubbing one eye as he wandered toward the kitchen.
His hair stuck up in every direction.
His oversized T-shirt hung loosely from one shoulder.
Soobin smiled.
"You look terrible."
"I haven't had coffee yet."
"My mistake."
"You'll see the real tragedy in about five minutes."
Coffee helped.
Somewhat.
Taehyun sat at the kitchen table with his mug cupped between both hands.
He noticed Soobin looking thoughtful.
"What happened?"
"Hm?"
"You've got your thinking face."
"I have a thinking face?"
"You do."
"So do you."
"What happened?"
Soobin glanced toward the window.
"I was watching the sunlight."
Taehyun blinked.
"...The sunlight?"
"I know."
He laughed softly.
"It sounds strange."
"I've watched it every day for twenty years."
"So?"
"I realized..."
He smiled to himself.
"...I know exactly what time it is without looking at a clock."
Taehyun looked around the apartment.
"You've memorized the sun."
"I've memorized almost everything."
That made Taehyun curious.
"What do you mean?"
Soobin stood.
He walked toward the bookshelf.
"The third shelf creaks if you put too many books on the right side."
He pointed toward the hallway.
"The floorboard there squeaks every seventh step."
He turned toward the kitchen.
"The pipe behind the sink makes a knocking sound whenever someone in apartment 402 showers."
Taehyun stared.
"...You're serious."
"I've had twenty years."
He smiled sheepishly.
"You notice things."
"Apparently."
"There are exactly..."
He looked toward the ceiling.
"...one hundred and sixty-three tiny cracks in the living room ceiling."
"You counted?"
"I got bored."
Taehyun burst into laughter.
"I don't know whether to be impressed or concerned."
"Both are acceptable."
Later that afternoon, Taehyun sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by stacks of old documents.
His advisor had reluctantly granted him access to municipal records, claiming they might help with his "historical architecture research."
Taehyun still felt guilty about lying.
Only a little.
He flipped through another folder.
Nothing.
Another.
Nothing.
Then...
"Huh."
Soobin looked up from the novel he had been slowly working through.
"What?"
"I found the original tenant records."
"For this building?"
Taehyun nodded.
"The first residents."
His finger traced down the faded list.
Apartment 301.
Then...
His heartbeat quickened.
"Choi Soobin."
Soobin immediately stood.
"What else?"
Taehyun kept reading.
"Moved in..."
He frowned.
"...three months before the fire."
"So you hadn't lived here very long."
"I don't remember."
"No."
He continued reading.
"There aren't any other names."
"What do you mean?"
"You lived alone."
That wasn't surprising.
Plenty of people lived alone.
Yet...
Something about it bothered Taehyun.
"You remembered a father."
"A mother."
"A younger brother."
"But no wife."
"No children."
"No roommates."
Soobin nodded slowly.
"I suppose I was alone."
The sentence felt strangely hollow.
He wasn't sure why.
That evening, they ordered pizza.
Mainly because Taehyun had nearly burned pasta for the third time that week.
"I don't understand."
Taehyun muttered.
"I followed the recipe."
"You somehow made the water smell burnt."
"I don't know how that's possible."
"Neither do I."
They laughed.
The delivery arrived twenty minutes later.
As always, Taehyun placed the pizza box on the coffee table.
As always, Soobin leaned closer just to smell it.
"Mushrooms."
"I still hate them."
"You still can't taste them."
"I know."
"But I hate the smell too."
Taehyun grinned.
"I think you're making that up."
"I absolutely am."
They spent dinner talking about ridiculous things.
Whether ghosts could sneeze.
Whether Soobin would like smartphones if he became human again.
Whether twenty years of missed movies would permanently destroy his attention span.
"You have so much catching up to do."
Taehyun said.
"I know."
"We're watching every Studio Ghibli movie."
"I don't know what that is."
"You will."
"And every Marvel movie."
"I don't know what that is either."
"...Maybe not every Marvel movie."
Soobin laughed.
"I trust your judgment."
"You shouldn't."
"I probably shouldn't."
Their conversation drifted from movies to music.
Then books.
Then favorite seasons.
Eventually...
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"If you became human tomorrow..."
The apartment grew quiet.
"What would be the first thing you'd do?"
Soobin didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked toward the window.
The sea shimmered beneath the setting sun.
People walked along the promenade.
Children chased one another across the sand.
A dog barked excitedly as it ran after a ball.
"I'd leave."
He said it so softly Taehyun almost missed it.
"I'd open the front door."
"I'd walk downstairs."
"I'd keep walking until I reached the beach."
His eyes never left the ocean.
"I've watched the waves for twenty years."
"I want to know..."
He smiled faintly.
"...if the water is as cold as it looks."
Taehyun felt his chest tighten.
"I'd take my shoes off."
"I'd let the sand get between my toes."
"I'd probably complain that it's uncomfortable."
He laughed quietly.
"But I'd be smiling while I complained."
A silence followed.
Then Soobin turned toward him.
"What about you?"
Taehyun looked surprised.
"If you had one day..."
"So?"
"What would you do?"
He thought for a long moment.
Finally...
"I think..."
He looked at Soobin.
"...I'd spend it showing you everything."
Soobin blinked.
"What?"
"The beach."
"The cafés."
"The bookstore near campus."
"The little bakery that makes the best cinnamon rolls."
"The park where everyone goes to watch the cherry blossoms."
"I'd want you to see all the things you missed."
The words came naturally.
Without hesitation.
Without realizing what they meant.
Soobin simply stared at him.
There was something almost impossibly gentle in Taehyun's expression.
Not pity.
Not obligation.
Just a quiet certainty that, if Soobin ever got a second chance...
Taehyun wanted to be there for every first.
The first sunrise outside Apartment 304.
The first cup of coffee.
The first walk.
The first time rain landed on warm skin instead of passing through a ghost.
Soobin smiled.
Not because he believed that day would come.
Because, for the first time in twenty years...
Someone was already making plans for it.
The next few days passed quietly.
Neither of them mentioned the conversation about the future.
Not because they had forgotten it.
Because it lingered.
Comfortably.
Like a promise that neither wanted to put into words too often, afraid it might somehow disappear.
Instead, life continued.
Taehyun went to university.
Soobin waited.
Taehyun came home.
They ate dinner together, or rather, Taehyun ate while Soobin happily guessed ingredients by smell.
They watched movies.
Argued over books.
Laughed.
Somewhere along the way, the apartment had stopped feeling haunted.
It simply felt like home.
Wednesday afternoon found Taehyun sprawled across the living room floor with half a dozen psychology books surrounding him.
He had an exam in four days.
His motivation had vanished approximately three hours earlier.
He let out a dramatic groan.
"I'm never graduating."
"You've said that at least twelve times."
"I've meant it every time."
"You'll be fine."
Taehyun looked over at Soobin, who was lying upside down on the couch with one of Taehyun's novels resting on his chest.
"You have unreasonable faith in me."
"I've watched you."
"So?"
"You study until two in the morning."
"You rewrite notes three times."
"You color-code everything."
"You panic for absolutely no reason."
"...I do not."
"You alphabetized your pens."
"..."
"I rest my case."
Taehyun crossed his arms.
"I like organization."
"You reorganized the spice cabinet by emotional importance."
"I..."
Taehyun stopped.
"...I don't know how to defend myself."
"I know."
Soobin grinned triumphantly.
Taehyun threw a cushion at him.
It passed straight through his chest before landing on the couch.
Both of them stared at it.
Then Taehyun sighed.
"I keep forgetting."
"So do I."
There was no bitterness in Soobin's voice.
Just quiet acceptance.
Still...
Taehyun noticed the brief flicker of disappointment that crossed his face before it disappeared.
It lasted less than a second.
But it was there.
That evening, Taehyun couldn't concentrate on studying anymore.
His eyes drifted toward Soobin every few minutes.
Eventually, Soobin noticed.
"What?"
"I have a question."
"Another one?"
"I ask good questions."
"You absolutely interrogate me."
"I prefer 'scientifically investigate.'"
Soobin laughed.
"Go ahead."
Taehyun hesitated.
"When you touch me..."
"Hm?"
"...What does it actually feel like?"
The smile slowly faded from Soobin's face.
He looked down at his own hands.
"I've been trying to think of the right way to explain it."
"And?"
"You know when your hands are freezing in winter?"
Taehyun nodded.
"And someone wraps them around a warm mug?"
"Yeah."
"It's like that."
He spoke slowly, carefully choosing each word.
"Everything around me feels..."
He frowned.
"...Distant."
"I can see the couch."
"I know it's there."
"But I don't really feel it."
"I know the floor is beneath my feet."
"But it isn't..."
He searched for the word.
"...Solid."
Taehyun listened quietly.
"But when I touch you..."
Soobin looked up.
"...Everything becomes real again."
The room fell silent.
"I can feel warmth."
"Pressure."
"The shape of your hand."
"The texture of your sweater."
"It only lasts while we're touching."
"But..."
A soft smile appeared.
"...For those few moments..."
"...I don't feel like a ghost."
Taehyun forgot to breathe.
He hadn't expected that answer.
Not at all.
"So..."
Soobin laughed awkwardly.
"I suppose I've become a little selfish."
"What do you mean?"
"I keep hoping you'll reach for my hand."
His cheeks colored faintly.
"Then I feel guilty for hoping."
Taehyun's heart gave a strange little tug.
He looked at Soobin.
Really looked at him.
The way he was nervously avoiding eye contact now.
The slight embarrassment in his smile.
How carefully he had admitted something so vulnerable.
Without thinking...
Taehyun set his notebook aside.
He moved across the floor until he sat directly in front of Soobin.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"You don't have to feel guilty."
Before he had time to second-guess himself...
Taehyun reached forward.
Their hands met.
Warmth spread instantly between them.
Not dramatic.
Not magical.
Just...
Warm.
Soobin let out the smallest breath.
His shoulders visibly relaxed.
"I wasn't asking you to."
"I know."
"I wanted to."
They stayed like that for a while.
Neither speaking.
Taehyun realized something surprising.
He liked it too.
Not because of the mystery.
Not because it brought back memories.
Simply because...
Holding Soobin's hand felt right.
Later that night, Taehyun finally returned to studying.
Or attempted to.
"So."
Soobin was still sitting beside him.
"What's today's topic?"
"Attachment theory."
"Oh?"
Taehyun flipped through his textbook.
"It explains how relationships form."
"Interesting."
"It starts in childhood."
"Usually."
Soobin leaned closer.
"So people become attached depending on how they were raised?"
"In very simple terms."
"Yes."
"Huh."
He thought about it for a moment.
"Can adults become attached quickly?"
Taehyun answered automatically.
"They can."
"It depends on circumstances."
"What kind of circumstances?"
"Shared experiences."
"Stress."
"Safety."
"Consistent emotional support."
He continued reading as he spoke.
"The human brain tends to bond with people who become a reliable source of comfort."
"Makes sense."
"So if two people spend a lot of time together..."
"They often grow emotionally close."
"Especially if they rely on one another."
Taehyun nodded absentmindedly.
"Exactly."
A long silence followed.
Soobin looked at him.
Then smiled to himself.
"What?"
Taehyun asked without looking up.
"Nothing."
"You've got that face again."
"What face?"
"The one where you're thinking something."
"I am."
"Tell me."
"I don't think I should."
"Why not?"
"Because you'll realize it eventually."
Taehyun narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"That's ominous."
"It isn't."
"So you're not going to tell me?"
"No."
"You're annoying."
"I've heard."
That night, after Taehyun had gone to bed, Soobin stood alone in the living room.
The apartment was dark except for the moonlight spilling through the windows.
His fingers brushed lightly against his own palm.
He could still remember the warmth.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
Enough that, after Taehyun let go, the absence of it lingered.
He smiled to himself.
"You've become greedy."
He whispered.
Twenty years.
Twenty years without a single touch.
Now...
Ten minutes without holding Taehyun's hand somehow felt far too long.
He laughed quietly at himself.
It was ridiculous.
Dangerous, even.
Because he knew what was happening long before Taehyun did.
He had watched people fall in love from this very window.
He had seen stolen glances.
Growing smiles.
The quiet excuses to spend another hour together.
The way hands lingered just a little longer each time.
He had seen it countless times.
And now...
He recognized every sign in himself.
He was falling in love.
Slowly.
Gently.
Entirely.
He closed his eyes.
"...This is going to be a problem."
Not because he regretted it.
Never that.
Because the person he was falling for was alive.
And he...
Was still a ghost trapped inside Apartment 304.
For the first time since meeting Taehyun, Soobin found himself hoping that the mystery of his existence would be solved not only because he wanted his life back...
But because he wanted a future that, until now, he had never dared imagine was possible.
Three days later.
Taehyun was exhausted.
Midterms had finally ended.
He stumbled through the apartment door with his backpack hanging from one shoulder and immediately dropped onto the couch face-first.
"I survived."
Soobin looked up from the window.
"Barely."
"I think one professor actively dislikes me."
"You say that every exam."
"This time I have evidence."
"So dramatic."
"I'm serious."
"You'll get an A."
"I don't want your optimism."
"I know."
"I want validation."
"I can do that too."
Soobin cleared his throat.
"Your professor is terrible."
"Thank you."
"And you're incredibly brave."
"Go on."
"And you deserve fried chicken."
Taehyun lifted his head.
"...I like this version of you."
"I know."
"I've studied human encouragement."
"You've watched too many people through that window."
"I really have."
Taehyun laughed before closing his eyes again.
The apartment became quiet.
Comfortable.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"Come here."
The words left Taehyun naturally.
Without thinking.
Soobin blinked.
"You want something?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"I don't know."
"I just..."
Taehyun opened one eye.
"...Want company."
Something warm settled in Soobin's chest.
He walked over.
Sat on the floor beside the couch.
Neither spoke.
They simply existed in the same space.
After a minute, Taehyun reached down.
Without asking.
Without hesitation.
Their fingers intertwined.
It had become almost instinctive now.
Every day.
Sometimes several times a day.
Neither commented on it anymore.
It simply happened.
"...Better?"
Soobin asked quietly.
Taehyun nodded.
"Much."
About twenty minutes later...
It happened again.
A memory.
Unlike the others, this one didn't arrive suddenly.
It unfolded slowly.
Like mist clearing.
Soobin stiffened.
His grip on Taehyun's hand tightened.
"Soobin?"
"Wait..."
His breathing became uneven.
"I see..."
A university campus.
Cherry blossoms.
Spring.
Young Soobin laughing.
Someone running toward him.
A man.
About the same age.
Messy dark hair.
Round glasses.
He looked completely out of breath.
"You're impossible to find."
Young Soobin laughed.
"You said the library."
"You weren't in the library."
"I changed my mind."
"Without telling me?"
"Obviously."
The man rolled his eyes dramatically.
"One day you're going to disappear and I'll never find you again."
The memory froze.
Those words echoed.
Disappear.
Never find you again.
Everything vanished.
Soobin gasped.
Taehyun immediately sat upright.
"What happened?"
"I remembered..."
He frowned.
"A friend."
"What was his name?"
"I..."
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Nothing.
"I don't know."
"But..."
His heartbeat quickened.
"He studied with me."
"We were close."
"Very close."
Taehyun was already reaching for his laptop.
"Soobin."
"What?"
"Anything."
"Tell me everything."
"He wore glasses."
Taehyun typed.
"He joked constantly."
Typed.
"He..."
Soobin suddenly looked up.
"I remember his first name."
"What is it?"
"...Jisoo."
Taehyun immediately searched.
Choi Soobin university Jisoo.
Dozens of unrelated results appeared.
He refined the search.
Added graduation years.
Department.
Nothing.
Then...
A university alumni newsletter.
One photograph.
Small.
Black and white.
Taehyun clicked.
His breath caught.
Four young men stood together beneath blooming cherry trees.
One of them...
"Soobin."
He slowly turned the laptop.
"I think..."
"...this is you."
Soobin stared.
The young man in the photograph smiled brightly.
His arm thrown around another student's shoulders.
Round cheeks.
Warm eyes.
Exactly the same face.
Exactly twenty-seven years old.
For several seconds...
He simply looked.
"I..."
His voice cracked.
"...That's me."
It was the first photograph he had ever seen of himself.
Not a newspaper clipping.
Not an official record.
Just...
A happy afternoon.
"I smiled like that."
He whispered.
Taehyun looked at the photograph again.
"You looked..."
"So happy."
"I think I was."
Soobin smiled through tears.
"I think..."
He laughed softly.
"...I really was."
Taehyun zoomed in.
"There are names."
Tiny print beneath the photograph.
Annual Psychology Society Picnic.
From left to right:
Lee Jisoo.
Park Minhyuk.
Choi Soobin.
Han Seungwoo.
Taehyun's eyes widened.
"Psychology?"
Soobin blinked.
"I studied psychology?"
"I think you did."
He looked at Soobin.
A strange smile slowly spread across his face.
"What?"
"So..."
Taehyun chuckled.
"I've been explaining psychology to someone who actually graduated in psychology."
Soobin stared.
Then covered his face.
"...That's embarrassing."
"I've been lecturing you for weeks."
"You really have."
"I even explained attachment theory."
"You absolutely did."
"And you probably knew it better than I do."
"I apparently forgot to mention that."
They both dissolved into laughter.
The tension melted away.
Until...
Taehyun noticed something in the corner of the scanned photograph.
A handwritten note.
Almost cut off by the scan.
He zoomed in.
The writing became clearer.
"See you Saturday at 304!"
Taehyun's smile faded.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
He slowly turned the screen.
"Does..."
He pointed at the number.
"...304 mean anything?"
Soobin leaned closer.
The moment he saw it...
His entire body froze.
Not because he remembered.
Because something deep inside him reacted before his mind could.
His heart...
Or whatever remained of it...
Ached.
Apartment 304.
The same apartment.
Written twenty years before the fire.
The same number.
The same place.
Which meant only one thing.
This apartment had not simply been where Soobin died.
It had already been his home.
And whatever truly happened twenty years ago...
The answer had almost certainly begun inside these very walls.
The apartment suddenly felt different.
Neither of them spoke.
The laptop remained open on the coffee table, the old university photograph frozen on the screen.
Four smiling students.
A sunny afternoon.
A handwritten note in the corner.
See you Saturday at 304!
Taehyun had looked at that photograph at least twenty times in the last ten minutes.
Every time, he noticed something new.
The way Soobin smiled.
The relaxed posture.
The way he leaned slightly toward the student named Jisoo.
He looked...
Alive.
Not just breathing.
Alive in the way people looked when they had plans for next week.
For next month.
For years to come.
It was almost impossible to connect that man with the lonely ghost who had spent twenty years watching strangers through a window.
"You had friends."
Taehyun said quietly.
Soobin never took his eyes off the screen.
"I did."
"You weren't alone."
"I wasn't."
His voice shook slightly.
"I wish I remembered them."
Taehyun clicked through the alumni newsletter again.
There wasn't much.
A short paragraph about the Psychology Society's spring picnic.
A list of graduates.
Nothing more.
But one detail caught his attention.
He zoomed in.
The faculty advisor's name.
Professor Kim Youngho.
Taehyun immediately opened another tab.
He searched the university directory.
To his surprise...
The professor was still there.
Retired.
But listed as an emeritus professor.
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"I think someone who knew you is still alive."
Soobin slowly looked at him.
"What?"
"The faculty advisor."
"He supervised the Psychology Society."
"He would've known all of you."
"He might remember you."
Hope flickered across Soobin's face.
"Do you think..."
"I don't know."
Taehyun admitted honestly.
"But I'm going to ask."
"When?"
"Tomorrow."
"You have class."
"I'll skip one lecture."
"You never skip lectures."
"I do now."
Soobin laughed.
"I don't want you getting into trouble because of me."
"I'll survive."
"You sound very confident."
"I'm mostly lying."
The next morning, Taehyun left before sunrise.
He packed the printed photograph into a folder and headed straight for the university.
His heart pounded the entire walk.
He had no idea what he was even going to say.
Hello, Professor. I'm investigating a twenty-year-old ghost.
Not ideal.
After asking around campus, he was directed to a small office tucked away in one of the older buildings.
The nameplate on the door read:
Professor Kim Youngho
Taehyun knocked.
"Come in."
The office smelled faintly of old books and coffee.
Shelves lined every wall.
Stacks of papers covered nearly every surface.
Behind the desk sat an elderly man with silver hair and kind eyes.
"Can I help you?"
Taehyun bowed politely.
"I'm sorry to disturb you."
"I had a question about a former student."
The professor adjusted his glasses.
"Oh?"
Taehyun carefully placed the photograph on the desk.
"I found this while researching university history."
"I'm trying to identify everyone."
Professor Kim glanced down.
For a moment...
Nothing happened.
Then...
His entire expression changed.
He reached for the photograph with trembling hands.
"...Where..."
His voice had become unusually quiet.
"...Where did you get this?"
Taehyun's heartbeat quickened.
"It was in an old alumni newsletter."
The professor stared at the picture for a long time.
His thumb gently brushed over one familiar face.
"Soobin."
He whispered.
"I haven't seen this photograph in years."
Taehyun carefully remained silent.
"He was..."
The professor smiled sadly.
"...One of the brightest students I ever taught."
"He had a habit of asking questions no one else thought to ask."
"He argued with me constantly."
A soft chuckle escaped him.
"But always respectfully."
"He made everyone around him think."
Taehyun smiled despite himself.
"That sounds like him."
The professor looked up.
"You knew him?"
"...No."
Taehyun answered carefully.
"I'm just researching."
Professor Kim nodded slowly.
"I still remember the day we heard about the fire."
His smile disappeared.
"The entire department was devastated."
"He had only graduated a year earlier."
"So young."
Taehyun hesitated.
"Professor..."
"Did you ever..."
He chose his words carefully.
"...see his body?"
The room fell completely silent.
Professor Kim looked surprised.
"No."
"I attended the memorial."
"But..."
He frowned slightly.
"...There wasn't an open casket."
Taehyun's pulse quickened.
"Why not?"
"They said the fire had been severe."
"So I assumed..."
His voice trailed off.
Taehyun nodded.
One more unanswered question.
One more missing piece.
Then he asked the question that mattered most.
"Do you remember his friends?"
The professor smiled faintly.
"Of course."
He pointed at the photograph.
"Jisoo became a journalist."
"Minhyuk moved overseas."
"Seungwoo..."
He frowned.
"I lost touch with him."
Taehyun's heart skipped.
"Do you know where Jisoo works?"
"I might."
The professor slowly opened one of his desk drawers.
Inside were dozens of old address books.
He flipped through yellowed pages until he found a name.
"Lee Jisoo."
His finger stopped beside a phone number.
"And..."
He smiled.
"An email address."
By the time Taehyun returned home, the sun was setting.
The moment he unlocked the apartment, Soobin appeared.
"You found something."
It wasn't a question.
Taehyun smiled.
"I did."
"So?"
"You were apparently a menace."
Soobin blinked.
"What?"
"You argued with your professors."
"I did?"
"Respectfully."
"Oh."
"That's acceptable then."
Taehyun laughed as he placed his bag on the table.
"He remembered you."
The words came out softly.
Very softly.
Soobin stopped smiling.
"He..."
"He remembered me?"
Taehyun nodded.
"He said you asked questions no one else thought of."
"He said you made people think."
"He said you were one of the brightest students he ever taught."
For a long moment...
Soobin simply stood there.
Someone remembered him.
Not his death.
Not the fire.
Him.
The way he talked.
The way he smiled.
The way he argued.
The person he had been.
His eyes slowly filled with tears.
"I existed."
He whispered.
Taehyun frowned.
"Soobin..."
"I know that sounds stupid."
"It doesn't."
"I..."
A shaky laugh escaped him.
"I spent so long wondering whether I'd imagined my own life."
Whether I had mattered at all.
Whether anyone had noticed when I disappeared.
Now...
Someone had remembered the sound of his voice.
That was enough to make his knees feel weak.
Taehyun crossed the room without thinking.
He reached for Soobin's hand.
Their fingers intertwined effortlessly now.
Warmth flowed between them immediately.
Neither even reacted anymore.
It had become second nature.
"I have one more thing."
Taehyun said.
"What?"
"I found Jisoo."
Soobin's eyes widened.
"What?"
"Or at least..."
He held up the small piece of paper.
"I found where he is now."
Silence.
Twenty years.
Twenty years since Soobin had seen his friend.
If Jisoo was still alive...
He would now be nearly fifty.
Old enough to have lived an entire life.
Maybe a family.
Maybe children.
Maybe grandchildren.
"So..."
Soobin asked quietly.
"...What happens now?"
Taehyun looked down at the paper.
Then back at Soobin.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"Tomorrow..."
He folded the paper carefully and slipped it into his pocket.
"...I'm going to meet the man who was supposed to never find you again."
And somewhere, buried deep beneath twenty years of forgotten memories, a single sentence echoed once more.
"One day you're going to disappear and I'll never find you again."
Perhaps...
Jisoo had been searching all along.
Taehyun barely slept.
Not because he was anxious.
Because his mind refused to slow down.
Jisoo.
A real person.
Not an old newspaper.
Not an archive.
Not a faded record buried in a basement.
Someone who had laughed with Soobin.
Studied with him.
Someone who might remember things Soobin couldn't.
At seven in the morning, Taehyun was already dressed.
He checked the address again.
A newspaper office on the other side of the city.
"You've checked it five times."
Soobin smiled from the kitchen.
"I know."
"It hasn't changed."
"I know."
"You look nervous."
"I'm not."
"You reorganized your backpack twice."
"...You don't have to point everything out."
"I've become very observant."
"You've become annoying."
"I've always been annoying."
Taehyun looked at him.
"You remembered that?"
"No."
"I guessed."
They both laughed.
The laughter faded quickly.
"So..."
Soobin looked toward the apartment door.
"You'll tell me everything?"
"Everything."
"No matter how small?"
"I promise."
Soobin nodded.
"I'll be here."
The words still hurt.
I'll be here.
Always here.
Always waiting.
Taehyun hated how normal that sentence had become.
Before leaving, he hesitated.
Then instinctively reached out.
Their fingers intertwined.
Just for a moment.
Warmth spread between them.
It had become their version of saying goodbye.
"I'll come back soon."
"I know."
This time...
Neither of them wanted to let go first.
Eventually, Taehyun smiled.
"I really have to go."
"I know."
Their hands slowly separated.
The warmth lingered for another heartbeat.
Then Taehyun left.
The click of the door echoed through the apartment.
Silence returned.
The newspaper office occupied an old brick building tucked between newer glass towers.
Taehyun stood outside for several seconds, rehearsing possible explanations.
None sounded convincing.
Inside, the receptionist smiled politely.
"Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for someone."
"Lee Jisoo."
She typed quickly.
"He still works here."
"Third floor."
"Features department."
"Thank you."
The elevator ride felt far longer than it actually was.
When the doors opened, Taehyun found a room filled with desks, computers, overflowing bookshelves, and the constant clatter of keyboards.
Near the windows...
A man with graying hair sat surrounded by stacks of notebooks.
Round glasses rested low on his nose.
He was reading several printed pages with intense concentration.
Taehyun's heart skipped.
The glasses.
He remembered the photograph.
"Excuse me."
The man looked up.
"Yes?"
"Are you..."
He swallowed.
"...Lee Jisoo?"
"I am."
"What can I do for you?"
Taehyun approached carefully.
"I'm sorry to bother you."
"I wanted to ask you about someone."
Jisoo smiled politely.
"I'm a journalist."
"People usually ask me questions."
Taehyun took the old university photograph from his folder.
He placed it gently on the desk.
The smile disappeared.
Jisoo stared.
His hand froze halfway toward the picture.
For a very long time...
He didn't speak.
Then...
Very carefully...
He picked it up.
"...Where..."
His voice was almost inaudible.
"...did you find this?"
"The university archive."
Jisoo kept staring at the photograph.
A small laugh escaped him.
"I remember this day."
His thumb rested lightly over Soobin's smiling face.
"He insisted we skip studying."
"Said life was too short to spend every Saturday in the library."
His eyes softened.
"He bought everyone ice cream."
"He paid even though none of us had any money."
Taehyun smiled faintly.
"That sounds like him."
Jisoo looked up sharply.
"You knew him?"
"...No."
Taehyun answered honestly.
"I wish I had."
Silence.
Jisoo leaned back in his chair.
"I haven't spoken about Soobin in years."
"I'm sorry."
"No."
He shook his head.
"It isn't your fault."
He looked down at the photograph again.
"He was..."
A sad smile appeared.
"...My best friend."
The words hung heavily in the air.
"We met during our first semester."
"We were roommates for a year."
"Then he moved."
Taehyun's attention sharpened.
"He moved?"
"Into Apartment 304."
Jisoo nodded.
"He wanted somewhere closer to the sea."
"He loved the ocean."
A tiny smile crossed Taehyun's face.
Of course.
Even now, Soobin spent hours watching the waves.
Some things remained.
Even without memories.
"He said listening to the water helped him think."
Jisoo chuckled quietly.
"So whenever he was working on something important..."
"He'd sit by the window."
"He claimed ideas came easier there."
Taehyun pictured Soobin standing in front of the living room window.
Every day.
Always looking at the sea.
His chest tightened.
Even after death...
He had never stopped returning to that window.
"Can I ask..."
Taehyun hesitated.
"...What happened the night of the fire?"
The office seemed to grow quieter.
Jisoo's smile vanished.
"I wish I knew."
"You don't?"
"I was supposed to be there."
Taehyun blinked.
"What?"
"We had plans."
He pointed toward the handwritten note on the photograph.
"'See you Saturday at 304.'"
"That was my handwriting."
"I wrote it."
"We were supposed to spend the evening together."
"Pizza."
"Movies."
"The usual."
His fingers tightened around the photograph.
"But..."
His jaw clenched.
"I got called into work."
"My editor asked me to cover an accident."
"I phoned Soobin."
"Told him I'd be late."
"He laughed."
"He said..."
Jisoo's voice broke.
"'Don't worry. I'll probably still be awake.'"
The room fell silent.
"I never made it."
Taehyun felt his stomach twist.
"What happened?"
"I arrived..."
Jisoo stared at the desk.
"...Just after the fire trucks."
"I saw the building burning."
His breathing slowed.
"I kept telling them my friend was inside."
"I tried to run in."
"They held me back."
His eyes had become glossy.
"They wouldn't let me through."
Taehyun could barely speak.
"I'm..."
"I'm so sorry."
Jisoo smiled bitterly.
"For years..."
"I kept thinking..."
"If I hadn't answered that phone."
"If I'd gone straight there."
"If I'd arrived an hour earlier."
"Maybe..."
He stopped.
The unfinished sentence didn't need words.
Taehyun understood.
"So..."
He asked carefully.
"...You never saw him?"
Jisoo slowly shook his head.
"No."
"I never saw his body."
"I never got to say goodbye."
The same answer.
Again.
No one had seen Soobin after the fire.
No professor.
No best friend.
No one.
Taehyun's pulse quickened.
Then Jisoo said something that made his heart nearly stop.
"...Actually."
He frowned.
"There was always one thing that bothered me."
"What?"
"The police."
"How they acted."
Taehyun leaned forward.
"What do you mean?"
"They wouldn't answer questions."
"They closed the investigation surprisingly fast."
"And..."
He looked directly at Taehyun.
"...They never let any of us into the apartment afterward."
"Not once."
"We asked."
"We begged."
"They refused."
A cold feeling settled in Taehyun's chest.
"Did they say why?"
Jisoo slowly shook his head.
"No."
"They only kept repeating one sentence."
He looked down at the photograph of his smiling best friend.
"'There's nothing left to find.'"
Silence.
Then Jisoo whispered something almost to himself.
"I never believed them."
Taehyun felt every instinct inside him sharpen.
Neither did he.
Because if there had truly been nothing left to find...
Then why did it feel like the answers were still waiting...
Inside Apartment 304?
Taehyun stayed at the newspaper office for almost two hours.
He asked every question he could think of.
And every answer created three more.
The fire.
The investigation.
The sealed records.
The missing body.
The apartment.
Everything connected back to the same place.
Apartment 304.
By the time he finally left, his notebook was filled with messy handwriting.
But one thing was clear.
Soobin had not simply disappeared.
Someone had made sure he stayed forgotten.
When Taehyun returned home, he barely had time to unlock the door before Soobin appeared.
"You took longer than expected."
Taehyun froze.
"You were worried."
"I was curious."
"You were worried."
"I was slightly concerned."
"That means worried."
Soobin looked away.
"Maybe."
The honesty made Taehyun smile.
"I'm okay."
"I know."
"You waited by the door."
"...Maybe."
Taehyun raised an eyebrow.
"You really have become bad at pretending."
"I've never had to pretend before."
The answer was quiet.
And somehow, that hurt more.
Taehyun stepped inside.
He placed his bag down.
Then he looked at Soobin.
"I met him."
Soobin went completely still.
"Jisoo?"
Taehyun nodded.
For a moment, Soobin didn't move.
Then slowly...
"Is he okay?"
Taehyun hadn't expected that question.
Not:
Does he remember me?
Not:
Did he miss me?
The first thing Soobin asked was whether his friend was okay.
Taehyun smiled sadly.
"He is."
"Older."
"Gray hair."
"Still wears glasses."
A tiny smile appeared on Soobin's face.
"Of course he does."
"He remembered you."
That smile disappeared.
"He did?"
Taehyun nodded.
"He called you his best friend."
Soobin looked down.
A shaky breath escaped him.
"My best friend."
"Yeah."
"He still..."
His voice became quieter.
"He still thinks about me?"
"Yes."
For several seconds, Soobin simply stood there.
Then he laughed softly.
"I was afraid..."
Taehyun watched him carefully.
"Afraid of what?"
"That everyone moved on."
"That maybe..."
He swallowed.
"...I was only important to me."
Taehyun's expression softened.
"Soobin."
"He spent twenty years thinking he failed you."
The words hit harder than expected.
"What?"
"He told me he was supposed to meet you that night."
"He thought..."
Taehyun hesitated.
"He thought if he had been there, maybe things would have been different."
Soobin closed his eyes.
"No."
His voice was barely audible.
"No, no..."
He shook his head.
"That wasn't his fault."
"I know."
"He couldn't have known."
"I know."
"So why..."
His voice broke.
"Why did he carry that?"
Taehyun didn't have an answer.
Because sometimes people carried guilt simply because they loved someone.
That evening, Taehyun told him everything.
About the photograph.
The professor.
The conversation.
The investigation.
Soobin listened silently.
Until one detail caught his attention.
"The police closed the investigation quickly?"
"Yes."
"And they wouldn't let anyone inside?"
"No."
Soobin looked toward the hallway.
Toward the room where he had spent twenty years.
"I've always wondered."
Taehyun looked at him.
"What?"
"Why I stayed."
"What do you mean?"
"I always assumed..."
Soobin's eyes lowered.
"...I stayed because I died here."
"But maybe..."
He looked around the apartment.
"...Maybe I stayed because something was unfinished."
The words settled heavily.
Taehyun nodded slowly.
"I think you're right."
That night, they decided to search.
Not the basement.
Not the records.
The apartment itself.
Every corner.
Every drawer.
Every place Soobin had never thought to look.
Because when you live somewhere for years...
You stop seeing things.
Especially when you have no reason to believe they matter.
They started with the living room.
Nothing.
The kitchen.
Nothing.
The bedroom.
Nothing.
Then...
Taehyun stopped.
"Soobin."
"What?"
"Your closet."
Soobin looked confused.
"My closet?"
"Did you ever check everything?"
"I lived here."
"That's not an answer."
"I checked."
"Twenty years ago?"
Soobin frowned.
"Yes."
"Before you forgot?"
The question silenced him.
Because the answer was obvious.
He had searched when he first became a ghost.
Desperate.
Terrified.
Confused.
But over time...
He stopped.
Because every day had been the same.
Every room.
Every object.
Every memory.
Eventually, he had stopped looking.
Taehyun opened the closet.
Inside were old clothes.
Neatly arranged.
A few boxes.
A suitcase.
Nothing unusual.
Until Taehyun noticed something.
"The floor."
"What about it?"
"There's a gap."
Soobin stepped closer.
A small gap existed between the wooden panels.
Almost invisible.
Taehyun crouched.
He ran his fingers along the edge.
"Help me."
"I can't exactly help."
"Encourage me."
"I believe in you."
"Good enough."
After a few minutes, Taehyun managed to lift the loose panel.
Underneath...
A small compartment.
Hidden.
Soobin stared.
"I never knew that was there."
Inside was a box.
Old.
Dusty.
Locked.
Taehyun looked at him.
"Do you recognize it?"
Soobin stared at the box.
A strange feeling crawled through him.
Not a memory.
Something else.
Fear.
"I..."
His voice became quiet.
"I don't know."
Taehyun carefully removed it.
The lock was already broken from age.
Inside...
Photographs.
Documents.
A small journal.
And one envelope.
With a name written on it.
Not Taehyun's.
Not Jisoo's.
Soobin's.
Choi Soobin.
The room went completely silent.
Taehyun picked it up carefully.
"Soobin."
He couldn't look away.
"Someone left this for you."
The ghost standing beside him looked more frightened than he had ever been.
Because after twenty years of searching for answers...
The first real clue wasn't hidden somewhere outside.
It had been waiting.
Inside his own home.
"So..."
Soobin whispered.
"...I was supposed to find this."
Taehyun looked at the envelope.
Then at him.
"Yeah."
"And I think..."
He swallowed.
"...we finally found where your story actually begins."
Taehyun slowly opened the envelope.
Inside was a single piece of paper.
Only one sentence.
But it changed everything.
"Soobin, if you are reading this, it means they failed to erase the truth."
Neither of them moved.
Because now they knew.
Soobin's death was not an accident.
Someone had expected him to disappear.
And someone had been waiting twenty years for him to come back.
For several seconds, neither of them breathed.
The sentence stared back at them from the paper.
Simple.
Clear.
Impossible.
"Soobin, if you are reading this, it means they failed to erase the truth."
Taehyun read it again.
And again.
His mind tried to organize the words into something logical.
It couldn't.
Because every possibility was worse than the last.
Someone had known.
Someone had known Soobin might disappear.
Someone had known there was something to erase.
"Soobin."
His voice was quiet.
"Do you recognize the handwriting?"
Soobin stood frozen beside him.
His eyes were fixed on the paper.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"I..."
He stepped closer.
His fingers hovered over the page.
He couldn't touch it.
Couldn't feel the texture.
Couldn't know the age of the paper.
But he could see.
"I don't."
His voice became smaller.
"But..."
Taehyun looked at him.
"But what?"
"It feels familiar."
A chill moved through Taehyun.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know."
Soobin pressed a hand against his temple.
"It's like..."
He struggled.
"It's like hearing someone call your name from another room."
"You know it's familiar."
"But you can't remember who it is."
The apartment became painfully quiet.
Then Taehyun carefully unfolded the rest of the letter.
There wasn't much.
Only a few paragraphs.
But each word felt heavier than the last.
Soobin,
If you have found this, I need you to know that I tried.
I tried to tell people what happened.
I tried to stop them.
But they have money, influence, and people willing to lie for them.
Do not trust the official story.
The fire was not an accident.
You were not supposed to be there.
Someone wanted you gone.
Find the truth.
Find the recording.
The answer is where everything began.
Apartment 304.
The letter ended there.
No signature.
No date.
Nothing.
Just those words.
Taehyun slowly lowered the paper.
"The recording."
Soobin repeated.
His face had gone pale.
"Where everything began."
"Apartment 304."
Taehyun looked around.
The old apartment suddenly felt different.
Not haunted.
Not lonely.
A crime scene.
A place where something had been hidden.
Something important enough for someone to try to erase.
They searched for hours.
Every cabinet.
Every drawer.
Every shelf.
The apartment was old, but there wasn't much.
Soobin watched quietly.
"I can't believe I lived here and never found anything."
Taehyun looked at him.
"You were alone."
"Confused."
"Scared."
"You didn't know what you were looking for."
Soobin smiled faintly.
"You always make excuses for me."
"They aren't excuses."
"They're explanations."
That made Soobin quiet.
Because Taehyun had a way of doing that.
Making him feel like his existence mattered.
Even the parts he considered failures.
Near midnight, Taehyun finally sat down.
"We need to think."
Soobin sat beside him.
"What do we know?"
Taehyun counted on his fingers.
"One."
"You died or disappeared twenty years ago."
"Two."
"The official story says there was a fire."
"Three."
"Your body was never confirmed."
"Four."
"The investigation was suspiciously rushed."
"Five."
"Someone hid a letter."
"Six."
"Someone wanted you to find a recording."
Soobin nodded.
"And seven."
Taehyun looked at him.
"You were important enough that someone tried to erase you."
The words hit harder than expected.
Soobin looked away.
"I don't know if I like that."
"Why?"
"Because if someone wanted me gone..."
His voice lowered.
"...That means there was something about me worth being afraid of."
Taehyun frowned.
"Or something about the truth."
Soobin looked at him.
"What?"
"Maybe they weren't afraid of you."
"Maybe they were afraid of what you knew."
Silence.
Because that possibility changed everything.
The next morning, Taehyun returned to the university archive.
Not because he expected answers.
Because he needed somewhere to start.
The recording.
What kind of recording?
Where could it be?
Why would Soobin hide it?
He searched through old building records.
Nothing.
Then he remembered something.
The original floor plans.
The sealed hallway.
The basement.
Apartment 304.
Everything connected.
Again.
He called the landlord.
"Hello?"
"Sorry to bother you."
"Hm?"
"I need to ask about the basement."
A pause.
"Again?"
"Yes."
The old man's voice changed slightly.
"What exactly are you looking for?"
Taehyun noticed.
The hesitation.
The slight tension.
"You know something."
Silence.
"Sir?"
Finally, the landlord sighed.
"You should stop looking into that apartment."
Taehyun froze.
"Why?"
"Because some things are better left buried."
The words were almost identical to what the police had said twenty years ago.
Taehyun's grip tightened around the phone.
"Did someone tell you that?"
Another silence.
Then...
"Who are you?"
Not a question.
A warning.
Taehyun hung up.
His heart was racing.
When he returned to Apartment 304, Soobin immediately knew.
"What happened?"
Taehyun closed the door behind him.
"The landlord knows."
Soobin's expression changed.
"Knows what?"
"That something happened."
"He told me to stop searching."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Soobin looked toward the hallway.
Toward the basement.
"The sealed room."
Taehyun nodded.
"I think the answer is there."
"But how do we get inside?"
They both knew.
Soobin couldn't leave.
He couldn't open doors outside.
He couldn't search places beyond the apartment.
For the first time, the barrier between them felt like an actual obstacle.
Taehyun looked at him.
"I'll go."
Soobin immediately shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because it's dangerous."
"Soobin."
"You don't know what happened."
"Neither do you."
"Exactly."
His voice cracked.
"I can't lose you."
The words slipped out.
Instantly, both of them froze.
The apartment went silent.
Soobin looked away.
Taehyun stared at him.
Because there it was.
Not said as a friend.
Not said casually.
Something deeper.
Something neither of them had named yet.
After a moment, Taehyun spoke softly.
"You won't."
Soobin looked back.
"I promise."
The words were simple.
But they meant everything.
Taehyun reached out.
Soobin took his hand.
The warmth came immediately.
But this time...
Something else happened.
A flash.
Not Soobin's memory.
Something different.
Taehyun saw it too.
A hallway.
Dark.
Smoke.
Someone running.
A voice shouting.
"Take the recording and go!"
Another voice.
"He can't find out."
Then...
A door.
Apartment 304.
A hand pressing something into the wall.
A hiding place.
The vision vanished.
Both of them gasped.
Taehyun looked at Soobin.
"Soobin..."
"I saw it."
"No."
Taehyun shook his head.
"You didn't."
His face had gone pale.
"I saw it too."
And for the first time...
They understood.
Their connection wasn't only allowing Soobin to remember.
It was allowing Taehyun to witness the truth with him.
Whatever happened twenty years ago...
They were no longer searching for Soobin's lost memories.
They were uncovering someone else's secret.
Neither of them slept.
Not because they were afraid.
Because neither of them could stop thinking about what they had seen.
The vision had lasted only seconds.
A few fragments.
A dark hallway.
Smoke.
A desperate voice.
A recording.
A hidden place.
But it had been enough.
Enough to know one thing.
The truth had been in Apartment 304 all along.
Taehyun sat at the kitchen table with his notebook open.
He had written the same words over and over.
Recording.
Hidden place.
Someone knew.
Someone helped.
Across from him, Soobin stood by the window.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
Taehyun noticed.
"You haven't said anything for an hour."
"I've been thinking."
"About?"
Soobin looked at the ocean.
"That voice."
"The one saying take the recording and go."
Taehyun looked up.
"You recognized it?"
"No."
"Then why..."
Soobin frowned.
"Because it sounded scared."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't remember the face."
"I don't remember the name."
"But I remember the fear."
His hands curled slightly.
"They weren't trying to hurt me."
Taehyun stood.
"What?"
"The person in that memory."
Soobin turned around.
"They were trying to protect me."
The possibility settled between them.
Someone had not only hidden the truth.
Someone had tried to save Soobin.
They started with the wall.
The place from the vision.
The hallway.
The problem was...
There were too many walls.
The apartment had changed over twenty years.
Paint had been redone.
Furniture moved.
Small repairs made.
The place where something was hidden could be anywhere.
Taehyun ran his fingers along the living room wall.
"Do you remember anything else?"
Soobin stood beside him.
"No."
"Only the hallway."
"The smoke."
"The voice."
"Nothing else."
Taehyun nodded.
"Okay."
"Then we think."
Soobin smiled faintly.
"You always do that."
"Do what?"
"Act like everything has an answer."
"Everything does."
"That sounds exhausting."
"It is."
"Yet you keep doing it."
Taehyun looked at him.
"Someone has to."
The answer made Soobin quiet.
They searched until the afternoon.
Nothing.
No hidden compartments.
No loose panels.
No secret recordings.
Eventually, Taehyun sat on the floor in frustration.
"I'm missing something."
Soobin sat beside him.
"You've been searching for six hours."
"I know."
"You need a break."
"I don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"So stubborn."
"You're one to talk."
Soobin smiled.
Then his expression softened.
"Taehyun."
"Hm?"
"Can I ask something?"
"Of course."
"Why are you doing this?"
The question caught him off guard.
"I told you."
"You don't like people disappearing."
"That's true."
"But..."
Soobin looked at him.
"You barely knew me."
"At first."
"Yes."
The room became quiet.
Because that was the truth.
At first, Soobin had been a mystery.
A ghost.
A problem to solve.
But somewhere along the way...
He had become something else.
Someone else.
Taehyun looked down.
"I don't know when it happened."
"When what happened?"
"When you stopped being a mystery."
Soobin didn't move.
"Taehyun..."
"You became someone I worry about."
The words were quiet.
Honest.
"You became someone I want to come home to."
For once...
Soobin had no response.
The ghost who had spent twenty years unseen.
Unheard.
Forgotten.
Now stood in front of someone who looked at him like he was real.
Like he mattered.
The silence was broken by something unexpected.
A sound.
A faint click.
Both of them froze.
"What was that?"
Taehyun stood.
The sound had come from the bedroom.
They rushed there.
Nothing.
The room looked exactly the same.
Then Soobin pointed.
"The closet."
Taehyun turned.
The closet door was slightly open.
He was certain he had closed it.
Slowly, he approached.
Inside...
Nothing.
Then he noticed.
The suitcase.
The old suitcase at the bottom.
It had moved.
Only a few centimeters.
But enough.
"That wasn't like that."
Soobin whispered.
"No."
Taehyun crouched.
He pulled it out.
The suitcase was old.
Covered in dust.
A faded travel sticker covered one corner.
He wiped it clean.
And stopped.
A name.
Not Soobin's.
Choi Minjae.
"Soobin."
The ghost went pale.
"Minjae."
Taehyun looked up.
"You remember?"
The name alone had done something.
Soobin pressed a hand against his chest.
"My brother."
The word came out instantly.
No hesitation.
"My younger brother."
The suitcase suddenly felt much heavier.
Inside were clothes.
A few books.
Old documents.
A photograph.
Soobin picked up the photograph with trembling hands.
This time...
The memory didn't come immediately.
Instead, something stranger happened.
The apartment lights flickered.
The temperature dropped.
And Soobin whispered:
"He was here."
Taehyun looked at him.
"What?"
"My brother."
"He was here."
"In this apartment."
"When?"
"I don't know."
Soobin closed his eyes.
Then suddenly...
A memory.
Clearer than any before.
A teenage boy sitting on the floor.
Angry.
Frustrated.
Crying.
"You can't keep pretending nothing happened!"
Young Soobin standing near the window.
"Minjae, stop."
"No! You're always protecting everyone else!"
A pause.
Then softer.
"Hyung... they're going to hurt you."
The memory shattered.
Soobin opened his eyes.
His face was completely drained of color.
"Minjae knew."
"Knew what?"
Soobin looked at Taehyun.
"The truth."
The photograph slipped slightly in his hand.
"My brother knew."
A terrible realization formed.
The person who left the letter.
The person who hid the recording.
The person who tried to protect Soobin...
May not have been a stranger.
It may have been the person closest to him.
"Taehyun..."
His voice shook.
"I think my brother tried to save me."
Taehyun looked at the suitcase.
At the hidden compartment.
At the apartment that refused to give up its secrets.
Then he saw something.
A small notebook beneath the clothes.
The cover was worn.
But the handwriting was clear.
Choi Minjae.
Taehyun picked it up.
Neither of them spoke.
Because they both knew.
Whatever was written inside...
Would finally explain what happened twenty years ago.
And maybe...
Why Soobin never left Apartment 304.
The notebook felt heavier than it should have.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Taehyun had held old documents before.
Research papers.
Historical records.
Personal letters.
But this was different.
This wasn't a piece of history.
This was someone's fear.
Someone's last attempt to leave behind the truth.
Soobin stood beside him, staring at the worn cover.
For the first time since Taehyun had met him...
He looked afraid.
Not of ghosts.
Not of the unknown.
Of knowing.
"What if..."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"What if I don't like what I find?"
Taehyun looked at him.
"Then we'll deal with it."
"So simple?"
"No."
Taehyun shook his head.
"Not simple."
"But together."
The word made Soobin look at him.
Together.
A strange thing.
Twenty years ago, Soobin had faced whatever happened alone.
Now...
He didn't have to.
Slowly, Taehyun opened the notebook.
The first pages were ordinary.
Dates.
Notes.
University schedules.
Small thoughts.
Things that belonged to a normal person.
Then...
The handwriting changed.
The letters became messier.
More rushed.
The first entry was dated three weeks before the fire.
March 12
Hyung is hiding something from me.
I know him.
He thinks if he smiles enough, everyone believes he's okay.
But I saw his face when he came home yesterday.
He was scared.
Soobin stared.
"My brother..."
Taehyun continued reading.
March 15
I followed him today.
I know that's wrong.
I know he hates when I worry about him.
But I was right.
He met someone.
Taehyun looked up.
"Someone?"
Soobin shook his head.
"I don't remember."
He looked frustrated.
"I should remember."
"Don't force it."
"But it's my life."
Taehyun placed a hand over his.
"You don't have to remember everything at once."
The contact calmed him.
As always.
They continued.
March 17
The person Hyung met was scared too.
They gave him something.
A file.
A recording.
They said if anything happened, people needed to know.
Taehyun's heart began beating faster.
The recording.
They had found the reason.
March 18
Hyung says he doesn't want me involved.
He says he'll handle it.
Of course he says that.
He always thinks protecting people means pushing them away.
Soobin closed his eyes.
A small, sad smile appeared.
"That sounds like me."
Taehyun looked at him.
"It does."
"You've known me for weeks."
"And I know."
The answer made Soobin laugh quietly.
They turned the page.
The next entry was dated March 20.
Two days before the fire.
I found out what the recording is about.
I wish I hadn't.
I understand now why Hyung was scared.
They aren't just hiding a crime.
They're protecting themselves.
Taehyun stopped.
"Who?"
Soobin looked at him.
"Who were they protecting?"
The notebook didn't answer yet.
The company.
The executives.
The people who think money means they can erase anything.
Taehyun's expression hardened.
A company.
A cover-up.
A powerful group.
Hyung wants to go to the police.
I told him not to.
Not because I don't believe him.
Because I don't trust them.
Soobin stepped back.
The memory hit him suddenly.
A police officer.
A cold expression.
A warning.
"Forget what you saw."
Then darkness.
He grabbed the table.
Taehyun immediately reached him.
"Soobin."
"I'm okay."
"No, you're not."
"I saw..."
His breathing became uneven.
"I saw someone."
"Who?"
"A police officer."
Taehyun froze.
"What did he say?"
Soobin squeezed his eyes shut.
"He said..."
His voice dropped.
"...That people who asked too many questions disappeared."
The room went cold.
They returned to the notebook.
The final pages were written differently.
Almost like someone writing while afraid.
March 22
Something happened tonight.
Hyung found out they know.
They know about the recording.
Taehyun's fingers tightened around the paper.
He told me to leave.
He told me to take my things and go to Jisoo's house.
I refused.
I told him I'm not a child anymore.
Soobin covered his mouth.
A memory surfaced.
His brother standing in the doorway.
Angry.
Terrified.
"You're not leaving me behind."
Hyung got angry.
I've never seen him angry before.
Then he apologized.
He hugged me.
The writing became shakier.
I think he knew.
I think he knew something bad was going to happen.
Taehyun turned the page.
The final entry.
The last thing Minjae wrote.
The date.
The night of the fire.
March 23
If someone finds this...
Please understand.
Hyung did not start the fire.
He did not disappear because he wanted to.
Someone came to the apartment.
Someone looking for the recording.
I heard them arguing.
I heard Hyung say he would never give it to them.
Then I heard the explosion.
Soobin stopped breathing.
Explosion.
Not fire.
Explosion.
I don't know what happened after.
I got out because Hyung pushed me.
He saved me.
He told me to run.
But I came back.
I couldn't leave him.
The next line was barely readable.
Hyung was still alive.
The world seemed to stop.
Taehyun looked at Soobin.
Soobin looked like he had forgotten how to exist.
Still alive.
Those two words changed everything.
The firemen found me.
They said no one could survive.
They were wrong.
I saw him.
I saw Hyung.
But someone took him away before I could reach him.
Taehyun's blood ran cold.
Someone took him.
Not died.
Not burned.
Taken.
The last sentence was written darker.
Pressed so hard the paper nearly tore.
If Hyung is gone, it means they succeeded.
If he comes back...
Please tell him I never stopped looking.
The notebook ended.
Neither of them spoke.
For a long time.
Because suddenly...
The entire story they believed had changed.
Soobin wasn't a ghost because he died in a fire.
He was a ghost because someone stole twenty years of his life.
Taehyun slowly looked at him.
"Soobin."
No response.
"Look at me."
Slowly...
Soobin did.
His eyes were full of tears.
"My brother..."
His voice broke.
"He thought I was alive."
Taehyun nodded.
"Yes."
"He spent twenty years..."
His expression collapsed.
"...thinking he failed me."
Taehyun reached for his hand.
This time, Soobin grabbed his first.
Desperate.
Like he needed something real.
Something warm.
"I was alive."
The words came out broken.
"I was alive."
Taehyun held on.
"You were."
"I wasn't gone."
"No."
"They took me."
His grip tightened.
"They took everything."
And for the first time...
Soobin wasn't grieving his death.
He was grieving the life that had been stolen from him.
Twenty years.
Twenty years he should have lived.
Twenty years his brother should not have spent searching.
Twenty years Taehyun wanted to give back.
But before they could think about revenge...
Before they could think about justice...
A sound interrupted them.
A notification.
Taehyun's phone.
One new message.
Unknown number.
He opened it.
And both of them froze.
Because the message contained only one sentence.
"Stop searching for Choi Soobin."
A second message arrived immediately.
"He was never meant to come back."
The apartment fell silent.
Taehyun stared at his phone.
The screen glowed in the dim living room.
Unknown Number
"Stop searching for Choi Soobin."
Below it...
"He was never meant to come back."
Neither of them spoke.
A third bubble appeared.
It disappeared before the message finished sending.
Then...
Nothing.
Taehyun immediately called the number.
A recorded voice answered.
"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."
His stomach dropped.
"That's impossible."
"What?"
"I got the message less than thirty seconds ago."
He tried again.
The same recording.
Disconnected.
He searched the number online.
Nothing.
No records.
No owner.
As though it had never existed.
Soobin stood very still.
"They know."
Taehyun looked up.
"They know someone's looking."
"No."
Soobin slowly shook his head.
"They know you're looking."
Taehyun spent the next hour backing everything up.
The notebook.
The letter.
The photograph.
Every document.
He scanned them onto his laptop.
Uploaded encrypted copies to cloud storage.
Saved another copy to a flash drive.
Then another.
Soobin watched quietly.
"You think they're dangerous."
"I don't think."
Taehyun answered without looking away from the screen.
"I know."
He remembered the notebook.
"They have money, influence, and people willing to lie for them."
He wasn't taking chances.
When he finally closed the laptop, Soobin spoke.
"You should go to the police."
Taehyun laughed once.
It wasn't amused.
"The same police your brother didn't trust?"
"...Right."
"They buried the investigation once."
"I doubt they'll suddenly become helpful."
The words hung heavily between them.
That night...
Neither of them slept.
Taehyun remained on the couch.
Soobin stayed beside the window.
Around two in the morning...
"Soobin."
"Hm?"
"I've been thinking."
"That's usually dangerous."
"It is."
Taehyun looked toward him.
"What if you didn't die here?"
Soobin frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"The notebook."
"It says you were alive."
"It says someone took you."
"So..."
He leaned forward.
"What if the fire isn't what trapped you?"
The room became quiet.
Soobin looked down.
"I don't understand."
"What if..."
Taehyun spoke slowly.
"...Whatever happened after they took you..."
"...That's what trapped you."
A strange feeling settled over Soobin.
Because...
It made sense.
If he had truly died in the apartment...
Why couldn't he remember it?
Why was every memory after the explosion missing?
Why did his memories always stop...
Before the end?
The following afternoon, Taehyun received an email from Professor Kim.
Only three lines.
Taehyun,
I remembered something after our conversation.
Come to my office. Don't discuss this over the phone.
Nothing else.
No explanation.
No signature beyond his name.
Taehyun showed Soobin.
"I'll go."
Soobin nodded.
Then hesitated.
"Be careful."
"I will."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"No unnecessary risks."
Taehyun smiled.
"You sound like an old man."
"I am technically forty-seven."
Taehyun laughed.
"You absolutely are not using that against me."
"I intend to."
"You've become insufferable."
"I've become charming."
"That's debatable."
"It isn't."
The laughter eased the tension.
Only a little.
Before leaving, Taehyun reached for Soobin's hand.
This time...
Something surprising happened.
When their fingers touched...
They didn't feel cold anymore.
Taehyun blinked.
"...Soobin."
"I know."
They looked down.
The warmth had changed.
It felt...
Almost human.
Not completely.
But enough that Taehyun could feel the shape of every finger.
Every knuckle.
Every slight movement.
Soobin stared in disbelief.
"I..."
His voice trembled.
"I've never..."
He swallowed.
"I've never felt this warm."
Without thinking...
Taehyun placed his other hand over Soobin's.
Soobin gasped softly.
"I can feel both."
The warmth spread up his arms.
Into his chest.
For one impossible moment...
Taehyun could have sworn he felt a heartbeat beneath Soobin's palm.
One.
Single.
Faint.
Thump.
Then it disappeared.
Both of them froze.
"...Did you..."
Soobin whispered.
"I don't know."
Taehyun answered honestly.
"I thought..."
"So did I."
Neither knew what it meant.
But one thing was becoming clear.
The closer they became emotionally...
The stronger whatever connected them became.
Professor Kim closed his office door before speaking.
"I checked something."
He placed an old personnel file on the desk.
"I wasn't supposed to have access to this anymore."
Taehyun sat down.
"What is it?"
"The university funded several research projects in the early 2000s."
He opened the folder.
Most of it contained financial records.
Grant applications.
Correspondence.
Then he stopped on one page.
A company logo.
Mirae Biotechnologies.
"They sponsored our psychology department."
Professor Kim said.
"They also offered internships."
Taehyun frowned.
"So?"
"Soobin interned there."
Taehyun looked up sharply.
"What?"
"He was one of their highest-rated students."
The professor removed another document.
"I remembered because..."
He hesitated.
"...He came to me two weeks before the fire."
"What did he say?"
"He asked me a question."
Professor Kim smiled sadly.
"I thought it was hypothetical."
"What question?"
"'Professor...'"
The older man closed his eyes, remembering.
"'If a company is hurting people and the evidence disappears... what responsibility does someone who knows the truth have?'"
Taehyun felt his pulse hammering.
"What did you tell him?"
"I said..."
Professor Kim looked down.
"...that the truth matters."
His expression filled with regret.
"I didn't realize he wasn't asking for an assignment."
The room fell silent.
Then Professor Kim reached into the folder one last time.
"There was something else."
He slid a photocopy across the desk.
It was a newspaper clipping.
Tiny.
Easy to miss.
A business article.
The headline read:
Whistleblower Dies in Apartment Fire Before Testifying
Taehyun's breath caught.
He read it again.
Then again.
Below the headline was a name.
Not Soobin.
A woman.
Yoon Hyejin.
Professor Kim spoke quietly.
"She worked at Mirae Biotechnologies."
"She died..."
He pointed to the date.
"...Three days before Soobin."
Taehyun slowly looked up.
The pieces began fitting together.
A whistleblower.
A recording.
A frightened employee.
A psychology graduate asking about responsibility.
An explosion disguised as a fire.
Someone taken alive.
His voice was barely audible.
"Soobin wasn't the whistleblower."
Professor Kim nodded.
"No."
"He was the witness."
And somewhere back in Apartment 304...
Without understanding why...
Soobin suddenly pressed a hand against his chest.
Another memory clawed its way toward the surface.
A woman.
Crying.
Pressing a small voice recorder into his hands.
"If anything happens to me... promise me they don't bury this."
Then...
A knock at the apartment door.
Three slow knocks.
Not Taehyun.
Not the landlord.
Someone else.
Someone who had never knocked on Apartment 304 before.
Soobin stared at the door.
His expression drained of all color.
"...I remember who came that night."
Three knocks.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Even though it was only a memory, the sound echoed through Soobin's mind so clearly that he instinctively stepped backward from the apartment door.
His breathing became uneven.
"No..."
He whispered.
"No..."
The memory refused to stop.
The apartment around him faded.
The furniture became newer.
The walls brighter.
Books stacked neatly on the coffee table.
A half-eaten pizza sat open on the kitchen counter.
The clock on the microwave read 8:17 PM.
Someone laughed.
His own laugh.
Then...
Three knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Young Soobin looked toward the door.
"Minjae?"
A voice answered from the other side.
"No."
Polite.
Calm.
Professional.
"I'm Detective Han."
"I'd like to ask you a few questions."
The memory shattered.
Soobin staggered backward.
His knees gave out.
He hit the floor.
"...Soobin!"
Taehyun's voice wasn't there.
He wasn't in the apartment.
He was still at the university.
Soobin was alone.
Completely alone.
For the first time since Taehyun had moved in, the apartment felt unbearably empty.
He pressed both hands against his head.
"No..."
More memories came.
Not complete.
Broken.
A detective.
A badge.
Two men in dark suits standing in the hallway.
The smell of smoke that hadn't happened yet.
The detective smiling.
Too politely.
"May we come in?"
Across the city, Professor Kim frowned.
"You look pale."
Taehyun had gone completely still.
His phone was vibrating.
He hadn't noticed until now.
The caller ID simply read:
Home.
His heart skipped.
Nobody could call the apartment.
He answered immediately.
"Hello?"
Static.
Nothing else.
Then...
Very faintly...
He heard Soobin.
Not clearly.
Not through the speaker.
Almost like a whisper carried by wind.
"...Taehyun..."
The line disconnected.
His chair scraped loudly against the floor as he stood.
"I have to go."
"What happened?"
"I don't know."
"But something's wrong."
He was already running before Professor Kim could say another word.
Back in Apartment 304.
Soobin forced himself to breathe.
The memories kept coming in flashes.
The detective walked through the apartment.
He wasn't searching.
He already knew where everything was.
That realization struck Soobin first.
He knew.
He knew exactly where to look.
Young Soobin stood between him and the hallway.
"What do you want?"
The detective smiled.
"We're trying to help you."
"I didn't ask for help."
"You've gotten involved in something dangerous."
"I know."
"Give us the recording."
Silence.
Young Soobin shook his head.
"I don't have it."
The detective's smile disappeared.
"You disappoint me."
The memory skipped.
Suddenly...
The detective was gone.
The apartment was dark.
The front door was open.
Someone was shouting.
Minjae.
"Hyung!"
Then...
Another face.
The crying woman from the memory.
Yoon Hyejin.
She grabbed Soobin's shoulders.
"They know."
"I know."
"You have to leave."
"I can't."
"You have to."
"I won't leave Minjae."
"You don't understand."
She pressed something into his hands.
The voice recorder.
Small.
Silver.
"If they get this..."
She couldn't finish.
"They'll destroy everything."
The memory blurred again.
Then...
The apartment exploded into noise.
Glass shattering.
Someone screaming.
Smoke.
Fire.
Minjae yelling from somewhere down the hallway.
Then...
Nothing.
Just darkness.
The apartment door burst open.
"Soobin!"
Taehyun.
He was breathing hard, clearly having run all the way home.
He found Soobin sitting on the bedroom floor, shaking.
Without hesitation, he crossed the room and knelt in front of him.
"What happened?"
Soobin looked up.
His eyes were full of tears.
"I remember."
Taehyun gently took his hands.
"What do you remember?"
"It wasn't random."
His voice trembled.
"They came for me."
"I know."
"They knew about the recording before the fire."
"I know."
"There was a detective."
Taehyun frowned.
"What?"
"He came to the apartment."
"He asked for it."
"He knew."
The room became silent.
"Soobin..."
"He wasn't investigating."
"No."
"He was helping them."
Taehyun's stomach turned.
Corruption.
Not just a company.
Not just executives.
The police.
At least some of them.
Exactly what Minjae had feared.
"Soobin."
He squeezed his hands.
"Look at me."
Soobin did.
"You're here."
"I know."
"You're safe."
"I..."
His voice cracked.
"I don't think I ever was."
The sentence broke something inside Taehyun.
Without thinking...
He pulled Soobin into his arms.
Not carefully.
Not hesitantly.
Instinctively.
Like anyone would embrace someone they loved after watching them fall apart.
The moment their bodies touched...
The apartment erupted in light.
Not bright.
Golden.
Warm.
The air vibrated.
Both of them gasped.
Because this wasn't like holding hands.
This was different.
Soobin could feel everything.
The fabric of Taehyun's shirt.
The rhythm of his breathing.
The warmth of his skin.
His heartbeat.
Strong.
Steady.
Alive.
He buried his face against Taehyun's shoulder.
"...I can feel you."
His voice was impossibly small.
"I know."
"No..."
A tear slipped down his cheek.
"I can really feel you."
For the first time in twenty years...
Soobin wasn't embracing warmth.
He was embracing another person.
Taehyun tightened his arms.
He didn't care that it was impossible.
He didn't care that ghosts shouldn't be able to hug people.
Right now...
Soobin was real.
And that was all that mattered.
Neither of them noticed the old voice recorder sitting on the top shelf of the closet.
The one that had been hidden inside the wall decades ago.
The golden light spreading through the apartment had reached it.
With a quiet mechanical click...
The recorder's tiny red light blinked on.
After twenty years of silence...
It had finally regained power.
And a distorted voice filled the bedroom.
"March twenty-third... if anyone is hearing this..."
Both Taehyun and Soobin turned toward the sound.
The recording had just begun.
The room fell completely silent.
Neither of them moved.
The tiny recorder rested on the top shelf of the closet, its red light blinking weakly.
Once.
Twice.
Then a burst of static.
A woman's voice emerged through the distortion.
Shaky.
Out of breath.
"...If anyone is hearing this..."
Another crackle.
"...My name is Yoon Hyejin."
Taehyun and Soobin looked at each other.
Neither dared interrupt.
The recording continued.
"I worked as a research analyst at Mirae Biotechnologies."
"My employee number is..." Static swallowed the next few words.
"If this recording exists..."
"...it means they found me."
A long silence followed.
As though she had needed a moment to steady herself.
"They've been altering clinical trial results."
"They've hidden patient deaths."
"They've bribed inspectors."
"They've paid hospitals to change reports."
Her breathing grew heavier.
"I copied everything."
"The financial records."
"The emails."
"The internal reports."
"I was going to give them to the prosecution."
"But someone warned the company first."
Taehyun felt his jaw tighten.
"There was a leak."
He whispered.
Soobin nodded slowly.
Someone inside the investigation had betrayed her.
The recorder crackled again.
"I don't know who I can trust anymore."
"So if you're listening..."
"...I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry I dragged you into this."
The voice broke.
"Soobin..."
Soobin froze.
She had said his name.
"I never wanted this to become your burden."
"You only offered to help because you couldn't stand watching innocent people suffer."
Tears filled Soobin's eyes.
Fragments returned.
A café.
Rain against the windows.
Hyejin sitting across from him.
Nervously twisting her coffee cup.
"I don't know what to do anymore."
"Then let me help."
"You'll regret it."
"Maybe."
"Why would you risk yourself for someone you've only known a week?"
Young Soobin had smiled.
"Because if I walk away knowing people are dying... I'd regret that even more."
The memory disappeared.
Soobin covered his mouth.
"I remember..."
His voice trembled.
"I remember meeting her."
Taehyun looked at him.
"You were trying to protect her."
"No."
Soobin slowly shook his head.
"We were trying to protect everyone."
The recording continued.
"If something happens to me..."
"...there's one more copy."
"I couldn't keep everything in one place."
"The files are hidden."
Static.
Then...
"...locker..."
More static.
"...Central Station..."
The words cut in and out.
Taehyun immediately grabbed his phone.
He began recording the recording.
Just in case.
Hyejin's voice returned.
"The locker key..."
A loud burst of interference swallowed almost the entire sentence.
"...inside..."
Static.
"...blue..."
More static.
"...book..."
The recorder emitted a piercing screech before settling again.
"Damn it."
Taehyun muttered.
"It's damaged."
"Keep listening."
Soobin whispered.
"There might be more."
The next voice wasn't Hyejin's.
It was Soobin.
Young.
Confident.
Alive.
Taehyun looked at him in shock.
Even Soobin stared.
"I forgot what I sounded like."
He whispered.
The younger Soobin laughed softly.
"If anyone's hearing this, Hyejin insisted I say something."
"I told her nobody would ever hear it."
"I hope I'm wrong."
A pause.
"If I'm not around anymore..."
Another pause.
"...please don't let this disappear."
"I've read every report."
"I've seen photographs that should never exist."
"I've met families who were told their children died from natural causes."
"They lied."
"They lied to everyone."
His voice became steadier.
"If you're listening because something happened to us..."
"...don't waste your life chasing revenge."
"Find the truth."
"Give it to the families."
"They deserve to know."
Taehyun couldn't breathe.
He had spent weeks getting to know the ghost standing beside him.
Quiet.
Patient.
Gentle.
Now he was hearing the man Soobin had been.
The same kindness.
The same calm determination.
The same instinct to put other people before himself.
Nothing about him had changed.
Not even after twenty years.
The recording suddenly became louder.
Voices echoed in the background.
Someone shouting.
A door slamming.
Then...
A familiar voice.
The detective.
"You've made this much harder than necessary."
Soobin's entire body stiffened.
"I know that voice."
Taehyun nodded.
"I know."
The detective continued.
"Where's the recorder?"
Young Soobin answered calmly.
"I destroyed it."
"You shouldn't lie."
"I learned from professionals."
Silence.
Then...
A loud impact.
Like someone being thrown against a wall.
Taehyun instinctively reached for Soobin's arm.
The ghost hadn't moved.
His eyes remained fixed on the recorder.
Another impact.
Then the detective again.
"Last chance."
"Soobin..."
"I don't have it."
"You really are willing to die for strangers."
Young Soobin laughed weakly.
"They stopped being strangers when your company hurt them."
Another crash.
This time followed by a sharp intake of breath.
Taehyun's hands clenched into fists.
He hated listening to this.
Hated knowing Soobin had gone through it.
Unable to stop it.
The detective spoke again.
"You think you're a hero."
"No."
Young Soobin answered quietly.
"I just think people deserve the truth."
Silence.
Then...
A click.
Metal.
A lighter.
The detective sighed.
"You had a bright future."
Another voice entered the recording.
Panicked.
Minjae.
"Don't!"
Then...
The explosion.
The recorder screeched violently.
The sound became almost unbearable.
Smoke alarms.
Breaking glass.
Someone coughing.
Minjae screaming.
"Hyung!"
Then...
Through all the chaos...
One final sentence from Soobin.
"Run!"
The recording cut off.
The red light disappeared.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Neither of them spoke for what felt like forever.
Finally...
Taehyun turned toward Soobin.
His eyes were wet.
"You saved your brother."
Soobin stared at the silent recorder.
"I tried."
"You did."
"But..."
His voice cracked.
"I couldn't save myself."
Taehyun stepped closer.
"You saved countless families."
"You protected evidence."
"You gave people a chance to know the truth."
"Soobin..."
He gently cupped the side of Soobin's face.
"You didn't fail."
For the first time since the recording ended, Soobin looked at him.
There was heartbreak in his eyes.
But there was something else too.
Relief.
Because after twenty years...
He finally knew.
He hadn't forgotten because he was weak.
He hadn't been trapped because he deserved it.
He had simply been a good man caught in something far bigger than himself.
Then Taehyun's phone vibrated again.
A new message.
This time...
Not from an unknown number.
From Professor Kim.
Leave Apartment 304 immediately.
A second message followed before Taehyun could respond.
Someone has been asking about you.
Almost simultaneously...
Three slow knocks echoed through the apartment.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
The exact same rhythm as twenty years ago.
Soobin's expression drained of all color.
"No..."
He whispered.
"They're here."
The sound echoed through Apartment 304.
Neither of them moved.
Taehyun instinctively stepped in front of Soobin.
It was ridiculous.
If someone was outside, they couldn't even see Soobin.
Yet every instinct screamed at him to protect him.
Another knock.
This time louder.
"Mr. Kang?"
A man's voice.
Calm.
Professional.
"I'm from the building management."
"I need to speak with you."
Taehyun frowned.
The landlord had never sent building management before.
Not once.
He quietly picked up his phone and opened the security camera app connected to the small camera beside the door.
The screen loaded.
A man stood in the hallway.
Gray suit.
Neatly combed hair.
Holding a clipboard.
Perfectly ordinary.
Too ordinary.
Taehyun zoomed in.
No company logo.
No identification badge.
Nothing.
Just a clipboard.
He looked at Soobin.
"I've never seen him before."
Soobin hadn't taken his eyes off the screen.
"I have."
Taehyun's heart skipped.
"What?"
"So much older..."
Soobin whispered.
"But..."
His voice trembled.
"...it's him."
"The detective."
Outside, the man smiled patiently at the closed door.
"Mr. Kang?"
"I know you're home."
"I'd appreciate just a few minutes."
Taehyun muted his phone.
"Call the police?"
Soobin immediately shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
"He'll have an explanation."
"He'll leave before they arrive."
"And if they're still connected..."
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Taehyun understood.
The man outside had walked free for twenty years.
He had every reason to believe he still knew how to make problems disappear.
The knocking stopped.
For a moment, everything was quiet.
Then...
The doorknob slowly turned.
Once.
Twice.
The door was locked.
A gentle chuckle came from the hallway.
"Still locked."
The detective spoke almost to himself.
"Just like before."
Soobin went completely still.
He remembered.
Twenty years ago...
He had locked the door after Hyejin left.
He remembered checking it twice.
The detective had tried the handle then, too.
Not because he expected it to be open.
Because he wanted Soobin to know he was there.
It had always been psychological.
A reminder.
I can reach you whenever I want.
The detective spoke again.
"I know you found something."
Silence.
"I also know you're recording me."
Taehyun looked down.
His phone.
The microphone icon was active.
He had unconsciously started recording when the knocking began.
The detective smiled toward the camera.
"That's smart."
"I always liked smart people."
A chill crawled up Taehyun's spine.
He knew the camera was there.
"Mr. Kang."
His tone remained perfectly pleasant.
"You're chasing a story that ended twenty years ago."
"No."
Taehyun answered loudly through the door.
"It didn't."
A small laugh came from outside.
"I suppose Soobin would have liked you."
The words hit like ice.
Taehyun glanced at Soobin.
The ghost looked furious.
"You knew him."
"I did."
The detective answered through the wood.
"He was stubborn."
"Kind."
"Naive."
"He believed the truth mattered more than consequences."
Soobin clenched his fists.
"You murdered him."
The detective couldn't hear him.
But Taehyun could.
"No."
The detective replied, almost as if he had.
"I tried to save him."
Taehyun frowned.
"What?"
"He refused every opportunity."
"He could have walked away."
"He chose not to."
The detective sighed.
"Such a waste."
Taehyun's anger flared.
"You blew up his apartment."
"No."
The answer came instantly.
"I didn't."
Silence.
Then...
"You've made the same mistake everyone else did."
Taehyun's pulse quickened.
"What are you talking about?"
"The explosion wasn't meant to kill Soobin."
Another pause.
"It was meant to destroy the evidence."
Taehyun froze.
Behind him, Soobin stared at the door.
The detective continued.
"We searched the apartment."
"We found nothing."
"We assumed the recorder burned."
He laughed quietly.
"It seems we were wrong."
Soobin whispered,
"The wall..."
"He never found it."
The hidden compartment had worked.
For twenty years.
The detective's voice became colder.
"Mr. Kang."
"I know the recorder survived."
"I know you have it."
"I'll make this simple."
"Give it to me."
"And you can go back to your normal life."
Taehyun looked toward the bedroom.
Toward the recorder.
His grip tightened.
"No."
The detective sighed.
"I expected that answer."
Footsteps echoed away from the door.
Taehyun waited.
One minute.
Two.
Nothing.
He cautiously checked the camera.
The hallway was empty.
"He left?"
Soobin didn't answer.
He was staring at the front door.
"No."
"What?"
"He never leaves."
Before Taehyun could react...
A loud crash echoed from somewhere below them.
The basement.
Another crash.
Metal bending.
Then...
The entire apartment lights flickered.
The floor vibrated beneath their feet.
Taehyun looked toward the hallway.
"What was that?"
Soobin's expression slowly changed from confusion...
To horror.
"The basement."
His voice was barely audible.
"The sealed room."
Another violent impact shook the building.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
Then they heard shouting outside.
Neighbors.
Someone yelled,
"There's smoke!"
Taehyun's blood ran cold.
Not again.
No.
He ran to the window.
Thin gray smoke was rising from the basement ventilation shafts.
His heart began hammering.
"Soobin..."
He turned around.
The ghost was no longer looking at the smoke.
He was staring at the apartment floor.
Specifically...
At the spot where Taehyun was standing.
"What?"
Taehyun asked.
Soobin didn't answer immediately.
His face had become impossibly pale.
"I remember now."
His voice cracked.
"The basement wasn't sealed after the fire."
Taehyun frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"It was sealed..."
He looked directly into Taehyun's eyes.
"...because there was another room."
Silence.
"A room nobody was supposed to find."
Taehyun felt the air leave his lungs.
"What room?"
Soobin swallowed.
"The place..."
His entire body trembled.
"...where they took me."
At that exact moment, a deafening explosion echoed from beneath the building.
The apartment shook so violently that every window rattled.
The bookshelf toppled onto the floor.
The lights went out.
Darkness swallowed Apartment 304.
And in that darkness...
For the first time...
Soobin screamed.
Not in fear.
In memory.
Because he finally remembered what happened after the fire.
And he wished he hadn't.
The scream echoed through the apartment.
It wasn't the scream of a ghost.
It was the scream of a man reliving the worst night of his life.
"Soobin!"
Taehyun stumbled through the darkness, knocking into the overturned bookshelf.
The emergency lights in the hallway outside flickered weakly through the front door.
Enough to make out shapes.
Enough to see Soobin collapsed on the floor, both hands gripping his head.
His entire body trembled.
"No..."
He gasped.
"No..."
Taehyun dropped to his knees beside him.
"Soobin, look at me."
No response.
"Soobin!"
Another violent tremor shook the building.
Somewhere downstairs, people were shouting.
Fire alarms began blaring throughout the apartment complex.
The sound instantly sent another wave of memories crashing into Soobin.
Darkness.
Concrete.
Cold.
His wrists hurt.
No...
Not his wrists.
His shoulder.
His left shoulder.
Every breath burned.
He tried opening his eyes.
A single light bulb hung from the ceiling.
Swinging slowly.
There was blood on the floor.
His blood.
He remembered trying to sit up.
Pain exploded through his ribs.
Someone spoke.
"So."
A familiar voice.
The detective.
"You survived."
Young Soobin stared at him.
"...Minjae?"
The detective smiled.
"Your brother is alive."
Relief flooded through Soobin so quickly that tears filled his eyes.
Then...
The detective crouched in front of him.
"You made the correct choice."
"What?"
"You pushed him outside."
"You saved his life."
Soobin tried standing.
"I have to find him."
The detective shoved him back onto the chair.
"No."
The memory skipped.
Another flash.
The detective standing over him.
"Where is it?"
"I told you."
"I don't know."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I hid it."
"Where?"
"I forgot."
The detective laughed.
"I don't think you did."
Another flash.
Hours later.
Maybe days.
No windows.
No clock.
No way to know.
Just questions.
Always the same questions.
Where is the recording?
Who else knows?
Who has copies?
Soobin never answered.
Because he genuinely didn't remember.
He had hidden it.
He knew that much.
But he had hidden it so well...
Even he couldn't find it.
The memory shattered.
Soobin gasped violently.
His eyes snapped open.
Taehyun was still holding him.
"Soobin."
He was crying.
Actually crying.
"What happened?"
For a long moment, Soobin couldn't speak.
Then...
"They kidnapped me."
Taehyun felt his chest tighten.
"I know."
"No."
Soobin looked at him.
"I remember."
"They kidnapped me."
"They kept me alive."
His voice shook uncontrollably.
"In the basement."
"The room."
"The sealed room."
Taehyun stared.
"They didn't kill me."
"They couldn't."
"Not until they found the recording."
Silence.
Another tremor shook the building.
Dust drifted from the ceiling.
Taehyun barely noticed.
"How long?"
He asked quietly.
"How long were you there?"
Soobin closed his eyes.
"I don't know."
"I couldn't see outside."
"I lost track."
His breathing hitched.
"I think..."
His voice broke.
"...weeks."
The word sucked all the air from the room.
Weeks.
Not hours.
Not a single night.
Weeks.
Twenty years ago, everyone believed Soobin had died in the fire.
Instead...
He had survived.
Only to spend weeks imprisoned beneath his own apartment building.
Taehyun felt sick.
"What happened?"
Soobin's expression became distant again.
"I got weaker."
"They stopped asking politely."
Another memory surfaced.
The detective placing a folder on the table.
Photographs.
Minjae.
Walking to university.
Buying groceries.
Laughing with friends.
"He'll disappear next."
The detective said calmly.
"So will your friend Jisoo."
"So will Professor Kim."
"One by one."
"They don't have to die."
"You just have to tell me where the recorder is."
Young Soobin looked at the photographs.
His brother.
His best friend.
Everyone he loved.
Then...
He laughed.
Weakly.
The detective frowned.
"What's funny?"
"I remembered."
The detective leaned forward.
"You remembered where it is?"
"No."
Soobin smiled through split lips.
"I remembered something else."
"What?"
"My brother."
"He always said..."
His smile grew softer.
"...I'm terrible at hiding things."
The detective's expression darkened.
"What does that mean?"
"It means..."
Soobin closed his eyes.
"...if I hid it..."
"...you'll never find it."
The detective hit him.
The memory vanished.
Back in the apartment, Soobin shook so violently that Taehyun wrapped both arms around him again.
"It's okay."
"No."
Soobin whispered.
"It's not."
"I remember how it ended."
Taehyun's stomach dropped.
"What happened?"
For several seconds...
Nothing.
Then...
"They realized I really didn't remember."
The apartment became eerily still.
"They believed I was lying."
"But I wasn't."
"My head..."
He touched the side of his temple.
"There had been another explosion."
"I couldn't remember."
"They kept asking."
"I kept saying I didn't know."
"And eventually..."
His voice disappeared.
"Soobin."
"They gave up."
Taehyun's heartbeat pounded in his ears.
"...What did they do?"
A tear slid down Soobin's face.
"They left."
"What?"
"They locked the room."
"They walked away."
Silence.
"They left me there."
Taehyun couldn't comprehend it.
"No."
"They..."
Soobin nodded once.
"I died alone."
The words barely existed.
"I didn't die in the fire."
"I died waiting."
The truth landed with devastating weight.
Not murdered in a dramatic explosion.
Not killed in the chaos.
Abandoned.
Left beneath his own home until nobody came.
Until the world forgot.
Taehyun felt tears burning his own eyes.
Without thinking, he cupped Soobin's face.
"I'm so sorry."
Soobin looked at him.
"I waited."
He whispered.
"I kept thinking..."
"...someone would come."
"My brother."
"Jisoo."
"Anyone."
His voice broke completely.
"But nobody knew where I was."
Taehyun pulled him close again.
This time, Soobin didn't hold back.
He buried his face against Taehyun's neck and cried.
Not quiet tears.
Not silent grief.
Twenty years of loneliness poured out of him all at once.
Twenty years of wondering.
Twenty years of believing he'd simply disappeared.
Taehyun held him as tightly as he could.
"You weren't abandoned."
He whispered.
"They were searching."
"Minjae searched."
"Jisoo searched."
"They never stopped."
"Soobin..."
He rested his forehead against his.
"They didn't fail you."
"The people who did this failed humanity."
For a long time...
Neither of them moved.
Outside, sirens wailed.
Firefighters were already arriving.
Smoke continued to rise from the basement.
Then Soobin slowly lifted his head.
His eyes were red.
But they were different now.
Clear.
Certain.
"I know where my body is."
Taehyun froze.
"What?"
"The room."
"The basement."
He looked toward the floor beneath them.
"They never moved me."
Taehyun's blood ran cold.
"They sealed the room."
"They built over it."
"So nobody would ever find me."
Another realization hit them both at the same time.
The explosion in the basement...
It hadn't been random.
Someone was trying to destroy that room.
Now that the truth was resurfacing...
Someone had come back to erase the last piece of evidence.
The evidence that had been hidden for twenty years.
Soobin himself.
The sirens outside grew louder.
Blue and red lights flashed across the apartment walls.
People were shouting in the hallway.
Someone pounded on neighboring doors.
"Everyone out!"
"Evacuate the building!"
Taehyun stood frozen.
His eyes never left the floor.
Beneath them.
Somewhere below Apartment 304.
Soobin had spent the final weeks of his life.
Not as a ghost.
As a man waiting for someone who never had the chance to find him.
His chest tightened painfully.
"Soobin..."
The ghost looked at him.
"I don't want to leave."
Taehyun blinked.
"What?"
"I know they're evacuating."
"I know you have to go."
"But..."
He looked around the apartment.
"If you leave..."
His voice became impossibly small.
"...I'll be alone again."
Those words broke Taehyun's heart more than anything else that had happened.
Twenty years.
Twenty years of silence.
Twenty years of watching people come and go.
Twenty years of every door closing behind someone else.
He reached for Soobin's face.
"You won't be."
"I have to leave the building."
"I know."
"But I'm coming back."
"What if they don't let you?"
"I'll find a way."
"What if they seal it?"
"I'll find another way."
"What if..."
"Soobin."
Taehyun interrupted gently.
"I promised you."
Their eyes met.
"I'm not leaving you behind."
Soobin closed his eyes.
He believed him.
Not because the promise was possible.
Because Taehyun had never broken one.
Someone knocked loudly on the apartment door.
"Is anyone inside?"
Taehyun quickly hid the recorder, Minjae's journal, and the letters inside his backpack.
He looked once more at Soobin.
"I'll be back."
"I know."
Their fingers touched one last time.
The warmth lingered.
Then Taehyun opened the door.
A firefighter stood outside wearing full protective gear.
"Sir, we need everyone out immediately."
"There's smoke coming from the basement."
"We're checking the structural integrity of the building."
Taehyun nodded.
"I'm coming."
As he stepped into the hallway, he instinctively looked back.
Soobin was standing in the middle of the living room.
Exactly where Taehyun had first seen him.
Only this time...
He wasn't smiling.
He simply watched.
Waiting.
The apartment door slowly closed between them.
Click.
For the first time since they met...
Taehyun couldn't see him anymore.
Outside, the entire street had been blocked off.
Residents stood together in small groups, wrapped in blankets despite the warm evening.
Some looked frightened.
Others annoyed.
Firefighters hurried in and out of the building.
Smoke drifted from a broken basement window.
Taehyun stared at it.
His body wanted to run.
Straight inside.
Straight to the basement.
But he couldn't.
Not now.
A police officer stepped toward the crowd.
"We believe this was caused by an electrical fault."
Taehyun's jaw tightened.
Electrical fault.
Again.
The exact same lie.
Twenty years later.
Then he saw him.
Standing behind the police tape.
The detective.
Older now.
His hair almost completely gray.
His posture still perfectly straight.
He wasn't speaking to the firefighters.
He wasn't helping.
He was watching.
Watching the basement entrance.
Watching everyone who came and went.
Watching...
Taehyun.
Their eyes met across the street.
The detective smiled.
Not warmly.
Knowingly.
He raised one hand in a small wave.
As if greeting an old acquaintance.
Then he turned and walked away.
Taehyun's fists clenched.
He wanted to chase him.
Instead...
He memorized his face.
"Mr. Kang?"
Taehyun turned.
Professor Kim hurried toward him, slightly out of breath.
"I'm glad you're alright."
"What are you doing here?"
"I heard about the explosion."
His eyes landed on the smoke.
Then on Taehyun's backpack.
"You have the recorder."
Taehyun nodded once.
"So do you know what happened?"
Taehyun looked toward the building.
"I know enough."
Professor Kim followed his gaze.
"What are they hiding in the basement?"
Taehyun hesitated.
Then quietly answered,
"Soobin."
The professor frowned.
"I don't understand."
Taehyun lowered his voice.
"They never recovered his body."
Professor Kim's face slowly lost all color.
"No..."
"They're still down there."
The older man took a step backward.
His eyes filled with tears.
"Twenty years..."
He whispered.
"Oh, Soobin..."
Just then, another group of firefighters emerged from the basement.
Their expressions were tense.
One of them hurried to the fire chief.
They spoke urgently.
The chief immediately called the police commander over.
Something had changed.
Taehyun watched the conversation carefully.
The commander's expression shifted from irritation...
To disbelief.
Then he looked toward the building.
"No one goes inside."
He ordered sharply.
"Cordon off the basement."
"Now."
Taehyun's pulse quickened.
They found something.
He knew it.
The detective knew it too.
Across the street, hidden between two parked cars, he had stopped walking.
He was watching the firefighters.
Watching the basement.
Watching with an expression Taehyun hadn't seen before.
Not confidence.
Concern.
Real concern.
For the first time in twenty years...
Something had happened that he hadn't planned for.
Inside Apartment 304, Soobin stood alone.
The silence had returned.
He hated it.
It sounded exactly like it had for twenty years.
No footsteps.
No laughter.
No Taehyun talking to himself while making coffee.
Nothing.
He walked to the window.
Below, he could see the emergency vehicles.
Tiny figures moving quickly.
He searched the crowd until he found Taehyun.
Even from this distance...
He recognized him instantly.
Taehyun looked up at the apartment.
As though he knew exactly where Soobin was standing.
Slowly...
He placed one hand over his heart.
A silent promise.
I'm here.
I'm coming back.
Soobin smiled through tears.
Then...
Something impossible happened.
For the first time ever...
He took one step toward the apartment door.
And instead of stopping at the invisible boundary...
His foot crossed it.
Only for a second.
Only by a few centimeters.
But it crossed.
Soobin immediately stepped back in shock.
He stared at the doorway.
His breathing became shallow.
"No..."
He whispered.
He tried again.
This time, his entire hand crossed the threshold.
It didn't disappear.
It didn't hurt.
It simply...
Passed through.
His eyes widened.
The boundary...
Was weakening.
At that same moment, outside, a firefighter emerged from the basement carrying a rusted metal identification tag sealed inside an evidence bag.
The tag was covered in soot.
But one name was still legible.
CHOI SOOBIN
Twenty years after he disappeared...
They had finally found proof that he had never left the building.
And as Soobin stared at the doorway of Apartment 304, he realized something profound.
He hadn't been trapped by the apartment.
He had been trapped by the truth.
And now that the truth was finally being uncovered...
The prison that had held his soul for twenty years was beginning to let him go.
The evidence bag changed everything.
Taehyun saw it before anyone else did.
A firefighter handed the soot-covered metal tag to the police commander.
The commander examined it for only a second before quickly lowering it out of sight.
Too quickly.
As though he didn't want anyone else to read it.
But Taehyun already had.
CHOI SOOBIN.
His heart pounded.
They had found something from the room.
Something that had survived.
Professor Kim noticed the change in his expression.
"What is it?"
"They found his identification tag."
The professor looked toward the firefighters.
His shoulders slumped.
"So..."
He whispered.
"He really was down there."
Taehyun nodded.
"He was."
Not is.
Was.
The distinction hurt more than he expected.
A black SUV rolled quietly to the curb.
No police markings.
No company logo.
Just tinted windows.
The detective's smile disappeared the moment he saw it.
The rear door opened.
A woman stepped out.
Late fifties.
Elegant suit.
Silver hair pulled into a neat bun.
She surveyed the chaos with practiced calm.
The firefighters.
The police.
The smoke.
Then her gaze settled on the basement entrance.
The detective walked directly to her.
They spoke too quietly to hear.
But Taehyun didn't need to hear them.
Their faces said enough.
She was furious.
Not because of the explosion.
Because something had been discovered.
Professor Kim followed Taehyun's gaze.
"Do you know her?"
"No."
"But I think..."
Taehyun remembered the recorder.
Mirae Biotechnologies.
"...she works for the company."
The woman turned.
For one brief moment...
Her eyes met Taehyun's.
Recognition flickered across her face.
Not because she knew him.
Because she knew exactly who he was.
The young man asking questions.
The one living in Apartment 304.
The one who had found what should have stayed buried.
Without changing her expression, she spoke quietly to the detective.
He nodded once.
Then both of them got back into the SUV.
It drove away without a sound.
"They're running."
Professor Kim murmured.
"No."
Taehyun answered.
"They're planning."
Back upstairs, Soobin stood in the hallway.
He looked at the apartment door again.
His fingers trembled.
The invisible wall was still there.
But it felt...
Thin.
Like fragile glass.
He reached forward.
His hand passed through.
Further this time.
Half his arm.
He smiled in disbelief.
"I can..."
He whispered.
He took another step.
One foot crossed into the hallway.
Then the other.
Nothing stopped him.
No pain.
No invisible force pushing him back.
For the first time in twenty years...
Soobin stood outside Apartment 304.
He turned slowly.
The hallway looked exactly as he remembered.
Same faded wallpaper.
Same narrow corridor.
Different doors.
Different people.
Different lives.
He laughed.
It was quiet.
Almost disbelieving.
"I did it."
He took another step.
Then another.
He reached the stairwell.
His hand rested against the railing.
Cold metal.
He could feel it.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
Enough to know it was real.
He looked down toward the basement.
The door was open.
Firefighters moved in and out.
Something inside him pulled in that direction.
Not curiosity.
Recognition.
"My body."
He whispered.
"I'm down there."
He started walking.
Outside, Taehyun was arguing with a police officer.
"I'm a resident."
"The building isn't safe."
"I just need to collect a few things."
"I'm sorry."
The officer shook his head.
"No one enters until engineers finish their inspection."
Taehyun clenched his jaw.
Every minute mattered.
He didn't know why.
He just felt it.
Then...
Professor Kim grabbed his arm.
"Taehyun."
"What?"
The older man was staring at the building.
"What if..."
His voice faltered.
"What if Soobin isn't waiting in the apartment anymore?"
Taehyun frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Professor Kim slowly pointed upward.
To the fourth floor.
Apartment 304.
The window.
Empty.
Taehyun's breath caught.
Every evening.
Every single evening.
Soobin stood at that window.
Watching the sea.
Watching the city.
Waiting for Taehyun to come home.
Now...
The window was empty.
An overwhelming certainty flooded through him.
"Soobin..."
He whispered.
Without another word, he broke into a run.
"Sir!"
The police officer shouted after him.
"Stop!"
Taehyun ducked beneath the barrier tape and sprinted into the building.
Someone yelled.
Several officers followed.
He barely heard them.
He took the stairs two at a time.
Third floor.
Fourth.
The hallway.
Apartment 304.
The door stood slightly open from the evacuation.
Empty.
Exactly as Professor Kim had feared.
"Soobin!"
No answer.
Then...
He heard footsteps.
Not from inside the apartment.
From below.
The stairwell.
He ran down.
Third floor.
Second.
First.
Then...
Halfway between the first floor and the basement...
He stopped.
Soobin stood there.
One hand resting on the railing.
Staring at the basement door.
His back was turned.
He looked...
Different.
More solid.
The edges of his body no longer shimmered.
His clothes had more texture.
His hair moved gently in the breeze coming through a broken window.
For one impossible moment...
He looked almost alive.
"Soobin."
The ghost turned.
The moment he saw Taehyun...
He smiled.
A real smile.
The kind Taehyun had only seen in the old university photograph.
"You came back."
"I promised."
"I know."
Taehyun walked toward him slowly.
"You left the apartment."
"I did."
"I think..."
Soobin looked at his own hands.
"...the truth set me free."
They stood only a step apart now.
"So..."
Taehyun asked quietly.
"What are you looking at?"
Soobin turned back toward the basement.
"Myself."
Silence.
"I think..."
His voice softened.
"...I'm ready to go down there."
Taehyun followed his gaze.
The basement corridor was dark.
The firefighters had temporarily stepped out.
For the first time since the explosion...
It was empty.
Waiting.
Not for investigators.
Not for police.
For Soobin.
Because beneath layers of concrete and twenty years of lies...
A young man of twenty-seven was still waiting to be found.
And perhaps...
Only by facing what remained of that night...
Could Soobin finally become whole again.
The basement smelled of concrete, rust, and stale air.
Emergency lights cast a dull orange glow down the narrow corridor.
Water dripped somewhere in the darkness.
Each drop echoed like a heartbeat.
Taehyun walked beside Soobin.
Neither of them spoke.
They had reached the heavy steel door the firefighters had forced open.
One firefighter noticed them.
"Sir, you can't..."
He stopped mid-sentence.
Inside the room, investigators were standing completely still.
Nobody was talking.
Nobody was moving.
It was as though the room itself had stolen every word.
Taehyun slowly stepped inside.
The room was much larger than he expected.
Concrete walls.
Old electrical panels.
Medical equipment unlike anything that should have existed beneath an apartment building.
Dust covered almost everything.
The monitors were ancient.
Their plastic had yellowed with age.
Cables snaked across the floor.
Several machines had finally gone dark after the explosion.
Others still emitted faint electronic hums.
One investigator whispered,
"...How is this possible?"
Another answered,
"I don't know."
Then Taehyun saw the bed.
His heart stopped.
A hospital bed stood in the center of the room.
Surrounded by machines.
An old ventilator.
Infusion pumps.
Monitors that looked decades out of date.
The person lying there looked...
Asleep.
Not skeletal.
Not decayed.
Simply asleep.
Dark hair.
Soft features.
Pale skin.
Even after twenty years...
Taehyun recognized him immediately.
The photograph.
The smile.
The eyes.
Only older by none at all.
Twenty-seven.
Exactly twenty-seven.
"Soobin..."
His voice cracked.
The ghost beside him didn't answer.
He couldn't.
He was staring at the body.
At himself.
The lead investigator slowly approached the bed.
"There are signs of continuous nutritional support..."
Another looked at the machinery.
"Someone maintained these systems."
"For years."
A firefighter shook his head.
"Impossible."
"No hospital batteries last twenty years."
An engineer knelt beside a concealed cabinet.
"They weren't batteries."
He opened it.
Inside was a compact experimental power unit bearing a faded logo.
MIRAE BIOTECHNOLOGIES
Silence swept through the room.
Someone whispered,
"My God..."
The machines had never been abandoned.
They had been hidden.
Maintained.
Automatically.
Just enough to preserve one patient.
One witness.
One secret.
Soobin slowly walked forward.
Every step felt heavier.
"I..."
His voice trembled.
"That's me."
Taehyun reached toward him instinctively.
Their fingers brushed.
Warm.
Warmer than ever before.
The ghost stopped beside the bed.
He looked down at his own sleeping face.
There were faint scars along his temple.
The same place he always touched whenever fragments of memory returned.
Tears filled his eyes.
"I never left."
He whispered.
"I never..."
His knees almost gave out.
Taehyun steadied him.
"You survived."
Soobin looked at the sleeping man.
"So why am I here?"
Nobody answered.
Instead...
The heart monitor gave a single beep.
One investigator frowned.
"Did anyone touch the equipment?"
"No."
Another beep.
The line that had remained almost perfectly flat for years...
Moved.
Just once.
A tiny rise.
Then another.
The room held its breath.
Soobin instinctively reached toward the body.
His fingers hovered above his own hand.
"I don't know why..."
He whispered.
"...but I think..."
"...I have to go home."
The moment his fingertips touched his sleeping hand...
The entire room exploded with golden light.
Every monitor turned on at once.
Alarms blared.
The ventilator stopped.
The heartbeat monitor accelerated.
The ghost looked at Taehyun one last time.
He smiled.
The same gentle smile that had greeted Taehyun every morning in Apartment 304.
"Thank you..."
His body dissolved into thousands of tiny golden lights.
Not fading.
Returning.
The lights rushed into the sleeping man.
The room fell silent.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Nothing.
Then...
The fingers on the hospital bed twitched.
A weak breath filled unfamiliar lungs.
The monitor accelerated.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Everyone in the room froze.
The young man who had been hidden beneath the building for twenty years slowly opened his eyes.
Confused.
Disoriented.
His gaze wandered across the ceiling.
Across the investigators.
Across the firefighters.
Until it found one person.
Taehyun.
For several long seconds, they simply looked at one another.
Then, with a voice rough from decades of silence, Soobin whispered the very first words his living body had spoken in twenty years.
"...You really came back."
And Taehyun, unable to stop the tears running down his face, laughed through them.
"I told you I would."
The first week was the hardest.
Not because Soobin was in pain.
Although he was.
Not because of the endless medical tests.
Although there were many.
It was because he had to learn his own body again.
"Try lifting your arm."
Soobin stared at his left arm.
It looked like his.
It felt like his.
But when he told it to move...
Nothing happened.
He frowned.
"It isn't listening."
The physical therapist smiled kindly.
"It will."
"It just hasn't been used in a very long time."
Twenty years.
No one said the number anymore.
It hung silently in every room.
Every conversation.
Every awkward pause.
His muscles had wasted away despite the machines keeping him alive.
His bones were fragile.
His balance was almost nonexistent.
The doctors were amazed he had awakened at all.
Walking...
That would take time.
Taehyun visited every day.
Without fail.
Morning before classes.
Evening after classes.
Sometimes in between if he had a free hour.
The nurses began greeting him by name.
"You're early today."
"I'm always early."
One nurse laughed.
"You really are."
He entered Soobin's room carrying a paper bag.
"So."
Soobin looked up from his hospital bed.
"What did you bring?"
"Absolutely nothing healthy."
Soobin smiled immediately.
"I'm listening."
Taehyun proudly placed the bag on the table.
Fresh pastries.
Coffee.
A small container of strawberries.
The doctor walked in at exactly the wrong moment.
He stared.
Taehyun stared back.
The doctor sighed.
"One pastry."
"Soobin is underweight."
Taehyun nodded obediently.
"One pastry."
The doctor left.
Taehyun waited until the door closed.
Then quietly unpacked three.
Soobin laughed so hard he started coughing.
"You are going to get caught."
"I have excellent timing."
"You absolutely do not."
"I have confidence."
"That's even worse."
By the end of the second week...
Soobin stood for the first time.
Only for five seconds.
But he stood.
The entire rehabilitation room applauded.
Soobin looked horrified.
"Please don't clap."
The therapist laughed.
"You've earned it."
"I stood."
"You stood after twenty years."
"So?"
"So that's incredible."
"It felt terrifying."
Taehyun walked over.
"It looked incredible."
Soobin smiled shyly.
"I almost fell."
"But you didn't."
"I nearly dragged the therapist down with me."
"She survived."
"Barely."
The therapist pointed dramatically.
"I heard that."
Everyone laughed.
For the first time...
Recovery didn't feel like surviving.
It felt like living.
One evening...
About a month after Soobin woke up...
Rain tapped softly against the hospital window.
Taehyun sat beside the bed reading one of his research articles.
Soobin wasn't listening.
He was watching him.
After several minutes...
"Taehyun."
"Hm?"
"You've been wearing those glasses more often."
Taehyun looked up.
"I have."
"I like them."
"You've said that before."
"I know."
"So why say it again?"
"Because I still like them."
Taehyun smiled without looking away from the article.
"You flirt strangely."
"I was dead for twenty years."
"I've lost practice."
"You were never dead."
"So."
"So?"
"You flirt strangely."
Soobin pretended to look offended.
"I think I'm charming."
"I think you're trying."
"I am."
Taehyun laughed quietly.
The sound made Soobin's chest feel warm.
Not the supernatural warmth from before.
Something simpler.
Human.
Two months passed.
The wheelchair became a walker.
The walker became a cane.
The cane...
Stayed.
For now.
The therapists assured him it wouldn't be forever.
Still...
Soobin hated it.
One afternoon he frowned at the cane leaning against the chair.
"I don't like it."
Taehyun looked over his laptop.
"I know."
"It makes me feel..."
He searched for the word.
"...old."
Taehyun blinked.
"You've said that while technically being younger than me."
"I know."
"You've also slept through twenty years."
"I know."
"You still look twenty-seven."
"I know."
"So what exactly feels old?"
Soobin sighed dramatically.
"My knees."
Taehyun laughed so suddenly that coffee nearly came out of his nose.
"My knees?"
"They hurt."
"You've discovered knees."
"They're disappointing."
"They've always been disappointing."
"I expected better."
"You had unrealistic expectations."
The nurse passing the room heard the conversation.
She peeked inside.
"What are we complaining about today?"
"My knees."
She nodded solemnly.
"They're terrible."
"I knew it."
Taehyun buried his face in his hands.
"I can't believe both of you are encouraging this."
Three months after waking up...
The criminal investigation exploded across the country.
The hidden room beneath Apartment 304.
The illegal detention.
The experimental life-support equipment.
The altered clinical trial records.
The recordings.
The notebook.
Everything.
Mirae Biotechnologies collapsed almost overnight.
Executives resigned.
Arrests followed.
The detective was finally taken into custody.
When reporters asked why the case had suddenly reopened...
The lead prosecutor answered simply,
"Because the victim survived."
Professor Kim visited the hospital carrying a small cardboard box.
"I found these."
He handed them to Soobin.
Inside...
Photographs.
University notebooks.
Old concert tickets.
A library card.
Tiny pieces of a life interrupted.
At the bottom lay a photograph.
Two young men stood outside the university library.
One was Soobin.
The other...
A shorter boy wearing oversized glasses.
"So that's Jisoo."
Professor Kim smiled.
"He never stopped looking for you."
"He moved abroad a few years ago."
"But when he heard..."
He pulled another item from his pocket.
A handwritten letter.
"He asked me to give you this."
Soobin carefully unfolded it.
His eyes filled with tears before he reached the second paragraph.
Taehyun quietly stood.
"I'll give you some privacy."
Soobin caught his wrist.
"Stay."
"You sure?"
He nodded.
"I'd rather read it with you here."
So Taehyun sat back down.
Not reading over his shoulder.
Simply staying.
Exactly as he always had.
Winter slowly became spring.
The hospital gardens filled with flowers.
The doctors finally smiled more than they frowned.
One afternoon...
"Ready?"
The physical therapist asked.
Soobin nodded.
"No cane."
"No cane."
"No walker."
"No walker."
"Just you."
He swallowed.
Then...
He took one step.
Another.
Then another.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Toward the bench where Taehyun sat waiting.
The distance wasn't far.
Maybe fifteen meters.
It felt like crossing a country.
Halfway there...
His legs shook.
Taehyun instinctively stood.
The therapist quietly stopped him.
"Let him."
Soobin took another step.
Then another.
His breathing became uneven.
But he didn't stop.
Finally...
He reached the bench.
Taehyun looked at him with unmistakable pride.
"You did it."
Soobin smiled.
"I did."
Then, without thinking, he leaned forward.
Not because he needed support.
Because he wanted closeness.
His forehead rested lightly against Taehyun's shoulder.
"I'm tired."
"I know."
"But..."
His voice was muffled by Taehyun's shirt.
"...I'm getting there."
Taehyun wrapped an arm around him.
"You are."
They stayed like that beneath the warm spring sun.
Two people who had once believed they belonged to different worlds.
Now sharing the same quiet afternoon.
The same breeze.
The same heartbeat.
The same future.
After a long silence, Soobin looked up.
"You know..."
"Hm?"
"You promised me a first date."
Taehyun smiled.
"I remember."
"You've been very slow about it."
"I was waiting."
"For what?"
Taehyun gently tucked a strand of hair behind Soobin's ear.
"For the day you could walk to it beside me."
Soobin's eyes softened.
"I think..."
He glanced down at his own feet before looking back up.
"...I'm finally ready."
Three days later.
Soobin stood in front of the full-length mirror in his hospital room, staring at himself with complete uncertainty.
"I look ridiculous."
Taehyun didn't even glance up from where he was sitting by the window.
"You've said that five times."
"Because it's true."
"It's not."
"It is."
Taehyun finally looked over.
Soobin was wearing a cream-colored knit sweater with light blue jeans. The clothes were new. Everything he had owned before had been taken as evidence or simply hadn't survived twenty years.
His dark hair had finally grown out enough to sit naturally again after months of trims.
He looked...
Beautiful.
Healthy.
Still thinner than he should have been, but undeniably alive.
"I don't know."
Soobin sighed.
"I've never worn this."
"It's a sweater."
"It feels expensive."
"It wasn't."
"It feels expensive."
Taehyun stood and walked over.
Without asking, he gently straightened the collar of the sweater.
"You look good."
Soobin's ears immediately turned pink.
"You have to say that."
"I don't."
"You're taking me on a date."
"I know."
"You could be biased."
"I am."
Taehyun smiled.
"I still think you look good."
Soobin looked down to hide his smile.
"I forgot how embarrassing compliments are."
"You'll have to get used to them."
"I don't think I will."
"You will."
"I won't."
"You definitely will."
The nurse passing the room chuckled.
"You two have been arguing about sweaters for fifteen minutes."
Neither of them denied it.
Although Soobin had been discharged from the hospital the previous week, he still had regular rehabilitation appointments.
For now, he was staying in the university guest apartments while the government investigated the apartment building.
Apartment 304 remained sealed as part of the criminal investigation.
It felt strange.
That apartment had been both a prison and a home.
It had given Soobin twenty years of loneliness.
It had also given him Taehyun.
He wasn't sure how to feel about it.
...
"So."
Taehyun held out his hand.
"Ready?"
Soobin looked at it.
The simple gesture made his heart race.
Months ago, they had held hands as a ghost and a human.
Warm.
Impossible.
Now...
There was nothing impossible about it.
Just skin.
Bones.
Pulse.
He slipped his hand into Taehyun's.
Their fingers fit together naturally.
Like they had done it a thousand times before.
"So?"
Taehyun asked.
"You've been smiling for a full minute."
"I have?"
"You have."
"I was thinking."
"Dangerous."
"It usually is."
Taehyun laughed.
"So what were you thinking about?"
Soobin looked down at their joined hands.
"I forgot how nice this feels."
Taehyun gently squeezed his hand.
"So did I."
Their first stop wasn't a restaurant.
Or a café.
It was the seaside.
The same stretch of coastline Taehyun had watched every morning from Apartment 304.
The afternoon sun painted the water gold.
A cool breeze carried the smell of salt through the air.
Soobin stopped walking.
He simply stared.
The ocean stretched endlessly before him.
His eyes slowly widened.
"I forgot..."
He whispered.
Taehyun looked at him.
"What?"
"How big it is."
His voice trembled.
"I used to see it from the apartment."
"But..."
He laughed softly.
"I forgot how loud it sounds."
They stood together in silence.
Waves rolled gently against the shore.
Children laughed somewhere farther down the beach.
A couple walked past with a golden retriever chasing birds.
Life.
Simple.
Ordinary life.
Something Soobin had once taken for granted.
He closed his eyes.
The wind brushed against his face.
The sun warmed his skin.
For a long moment, he simply existed.
When he opened his eyes again, they were shining.
"I thought..."
He admitted quietly.
"I thought if I ever came back..."
"...I'd be angry."
"But I'm not."
Taehyun tilted his head.
"What are you?"
Soobin smiled.
"Grateful."
They bought two iced coffees from a small stand near the promenade.
Soobin frowned at the cup.
"What?"
Taehyun asked.
"It's cold."
"It is."
"They put ice in coffee now?"
Taehyun stared.
"They've been doing that for a while."
"For twenty years?"
"For more than twenty years."
"Huh."
He took another sip.
"I think I like the future."
Taehyun laughed.
"So far your favorite discoveries are iced coffee and elevators that talk."
"The elevators are very polite."
"They are."
"And phones."
"You've become obsessed with your phone."
"I can understand why."
Soobin pulled it from his pocket.
"I still think maps are magic."
Taehyun looked at the navigation app open on the screen.
"You've asked it for directions to places we've already been."
"I wanted to see if it knew."
"It did."
"It did."
He looked genuinely impressed.
Taehyun couldn't stop smiling.
Watching Soobin discover ordinary things felt extraordinary.
Every little moment reminded him that Soobin had been given a second chance.
Not just at life.
At living.
As the afternoon slowly turned into evening, they found themselves sitting on a quiet bench overlooking the water.
Neither had spoken for several minutes.
It wasn't uncomfortable.
It never was.
Soobin rested his head lightly against Taehyun's shoulder.
"I missed this."
Taehyun smiled.
"We've never done this here."
"I know."
"I missed being able to."
The words settled warmly between them.
After a while, Soobin quietly asked,
"Can I tell you something?"
"You never have to ask."
He took a slow breath.
"When I was a ghost..."
"I started falling in love with you."
Taehyun's heart skipped.
"I think..."
Soobin laughed nervously.
"...it happened when you came home with a fever."
"You were exhausted."
"You still made dinner."
"You apologized to me because you thought I'd be lonely while you slept."
He smiled to himself.
"I remember thinking..."
"...who worries about a ghost?"
Taehyun let out a soft laugh.
"I did."
"I know."
"I didn't mean to."
"I know."
"I tried not to love you."
Taehyun turned slightly to look at him.
"Why?"
"Because I thought..."
His smile became sad.
"...that one day you'd leave the apartment."
"You'd meet someone."
"You'd have a family."
"And I'd still be standing by that window."
His voice was quiet.
"I was preparing myself to let you go."
Taehyun reached up and gently brushed a thumb across Soobin's cheek.
"My turn?"
Soobin nodded.
"I fell in love with you long before I admitted it."
A faint blush spread across Soobin's face.
"I think..."
Taehyun continued.
"...it was the morning you made fun of my coffee."
"I remember realizing that the apartment didn't feel empty anymore."
"It felt like home."
He smiled softly.
"And then I caught myself looking forward to hearing your voice every morning."
"Soobin..."
He intertwined their fingers again.
"I stopped wishing you could move on."
"I started wishing you could stay."
Emotion shimmered in Soobin's eyes.
Neither of them spoke.
The waves continued their gentle rhythm.
The sky slowly deepened into shades of orange and pink.
Finally, Taehyun stood.
"So."
Soobin looked up.
"So?"
"You said I was taking too long."
"I did."
Taehyun smiled, a little nervous now for the first time all day.
"I think we've waited long enough."
He turned to face Soobin fully.
Then, with a quiet sincerity that made Soobin's heart race, he asked,
"Choi Soobin..."
"Would you let me be your boyfriend?"
For a moment, Soobin could only stare.
After everything.
The fire.
The years stolen from him.
The ghost he had been.
The life he had regained.
The question was wonderfully, beautifully ordinary.
A boyfriend.
Not a ghost.
Not a miracle.
Just a man being asked by another man.
A laugh escaped him, followed immediately by tears.
"You know..."
He said, wiping at his eyes.
"I've imagined answering this question hundreds of times."
Taehyun smiled.
"And?"
Soobin stepped closer until there was barely any space between them.
He lifted a slightly trembling hand and cupped Taehyun's cheek.
"Yes."
His smile grew brighter than the evening sun reflecting off the sea.
"Yes, I'd love to be your boyfriend."
Taehyun closed the tiny distance between them.
He paused just long enough for Soobin to meet him halfway.
Their first kiss was gentle.
Unhurried.
It carried months of quiet affection, shared grief, patient healing, and hope.
When they finally pulled back, their foreheads rested together.
Soobin laughed softly.
"I waited twenty years for my first date."
Taehyun smiled.
"Worth the wait?"
Soobin looked into his eyes without hesitation.
"Every second."
Five years later.
The apartment smelled like freshly baked bread.
Not because either of them knew how to bake particularly well.
Because Soobin had become stubbornly determined to learn.
The first loaf had been hard enough to qualify as a weapon.
The second had somehow been raw in the middle and burnt on the outside.
The third had collapsed into something Taehyun insisted resembled modern art.
Now...
The fourth attempt sat proudly on the kitchen counter.
Golden.
Perfect.
Soobin crossed his arms.
"I told you I'd get it."
Taehyun looked at the loaf.
Then at Soobin.
Then back at the loaf.
"I'll admit defeat."
"You should."
"I underestimated your ability to become obsessed with baking."
"I become obsessed with everything."
"That is unfortunately true."
Soobin grinned.
"I became obsessed with you."
Taehyun rolled his eyes.
"I walked into that one."
"You really did."
Life had become wonderfully ordinary.
Exactly what Soobin had always wanted.
After almost a year of rehabilitation, he had fully recovered.
His muscles had returned.
The cane had disappeared.
The nightmares hadn't vanished completely.
Sometimes he still woke up breathing hard, convinced he was back beneath the building.
Every single time...
Taehyun reached for him before he even fully woke.
Never asking questions.
Never rushing him.
Simply holding him until the memories loosened their grip.
Some wounds didn't disappear.
They simply became easier to carry when someone carried them with you.
Justice had come.
Not quickly.
Not easily.
But it had come.
The evidence from Hyejin's recording.
Minjae's notebook.
The hidden underground room.
The experimental life-support equipment.
Everything had become public.
The executives of Mirae Biotechnologies were convicted.
The detective spent the rest of his life in prison.
Families finally learned the truth about what had happened to their loved ones.
Hyejin's name was cleared.
She was remembered not as someone who disappeared...
But as the woman who refused to let innocent people suffer in silence.
Soobin visited her grave every spring.
He always brought white lilies.
He always stayed for a while.
He always said the same words.
"We did it."
Minjae had cried for nearly an hour when he first saw Soobin.
Neither of them had spoken.
Words couldn't hold twenty lost years.
Instead...
They simply held each other.
Minjae had more gray hair now.
More wrinkles.
He had children.
A granddaughter.
A life Soobin had missed watching unfold.
For a while, that hurt.
Then one afternoon Minjae had smiled through tears and said,
"You still get to be their uncle."
Soobin had laughed.
And just like that...
The grief had made room for something else.
Hope.
His grandniece, six-year-old Yuna, adored him.
Mostly because he never said no when she wanted ice cream.
And because he built the best blanket forts.
Taehyun insisted they were structurally unsound.
Yuna insisted they were castles.
Soobin wisely agreed with Yuna.
Taehyun finished graduate school.
He eventually became a professor.
Students loved his lectures.
Not because they were easy.
Because they were alive.
History, he often told them, wasn't just dates and documents.
It was people.
People whose stories deserved to be remembered.
Every semester, he ended one lecture with the same sentence.
"Sometimes the greatest act of courage is refusing to let the truth disappear."
The students never knew why those words mattered so much to him.
One person in the audience always did.
Sometimes Soobin quietly sat in the back of the lecture hall.
Watching.
Smiling.
Still thinking Taehyun looked unfairly handsome in glasses.
One rainy evening...
Taehyun unlocked the front door.
"I'm home."
"So am I."
The answer came from the kitchen.
It still made Taehyun smile every single time.
Because for months after waking up...
Soobin had unconsciously answered,
"I'm here."
Not I'm home.
Just I'm here.
One day, it had changed.
Neither of them mentioned it.
They simply noticed.
Home wasn't a place anymore.
It was each other.
Later that night, they sat on their apartment balcony.
Not Apartment 304.
That building had eventually been demolished.
Too many painful memories.
Instead, they found a small apartment overlooking the same ocean.
Different walls.
Same sea.
The waves rolled gently beneath the moonlight.
Soobin rested against Taehyun's shoulder.
"You know..."
"Hm?"
"I used to watch this view every day."
"I know."
"I thought..."
He smiled softly.
"...that I'd never actually touch the sand again."
Taehyun intertwined their fingers.
"You've touched plenty of sand."
"I have."
"You complained about it getting into your shoes."
"I still stand by that complaint."
Taehyun laughed.
"You've become very dramatic."
"I survived twenty years."
"I've earned drama."
"I'll allow it."
Silence settled comfortably around them.
Then Soobin quietly asked,
"Do you ever think about him?"
"The ghost?"
Taehyun looked toward the ocean.
"I do."
"So do I."
"I miss him sometimes."
Taehyun nodded.
"So do I."
Because ghost Soobin and living Soobin were the same person.
Yet...
There had been something precious about those quiet mornings in Apartment 304.
Tea that only one of them could drink.
Movie nights where one person couldn't hold the popcorn.
Arguments over books.
Watching sunsets from the window.
Falling in love before they could ever truly touch.
Those memories remained.
Not painful.
Beautiful.
A beginning.
"So."
Taehyun suddenly said.
"So?"
"I've been thinking."
"Oh no."
"What?"
"You think before every major life decision."
"I do."
"You also thought before buying that terrible lamp."
"The lamp is wonderful."
"The lamp looks haunted."
"It has character."
"It has crimes."
Taehyun laughed.
Then reached into his pocket.
Soobin noticed immediately.
His eyes widened.
"No."
Taehyun smiled.
"Yes."
He stood.
Then, instead of kneeling, he simply took both of Soobin's hands.
"I spent months wondering if I'd ever get to touch you."
"I spent years wondering if I'd ever meet someone who made me feel at home."
"You gave me both."
His voice softened.
"You taught me that love isn't measured by time."
"It's measured by choosing someone."
"Again."
"And again."
"And again."
Every day.
He squeezed Soobin's hands.
"Choi Soobin."
"My favorite baker."
"My favorite history enthusiast."
"My favorite person."
"Soobin laughed through already-forming tears.
"Those are very specific titles."
"They're all true."
Taehyun smiled.
"Will you marry me?"
Soobin stared at him.
Five years ago...
He had believed his life was over.
Five years ago...
He had believed no one would ever find him.
Five years ago...
He had stood alone in Apartment 304 watching the ocean, convinced loneliness would last forever.
Now...
The man he loved was standing in front of him.
Holding both of his hands.
Asking him to spend the rest of his life together.
A life he had never expected to have.
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead...
He stepped forward.
Wrapped both arms around Taehyun.
Held him as tightly as he could.
His heartbeat.
His warmth.
His breathing.
Still his favorite miracle.
Then he whispered against Taehyun's shoulder,
"Yes."
A laugh escaped him.
"So many times yes."
Taehyun kissed his forehead.
"I'll take that as a yes."
"You should."
The ocean breeze carried their laughter into the night.
Years later, after they were married, their friends often asked how they had met.
Taehyun would always smile before answering.
"It's a long story."
Soobin would grin.
"And honestly..."
"I'm still trying to convince him I wasn't haunting the apartment."
"You were."
"I was politely haunting it."
"There is no such thing."
"There absolutely is."
Their friends would laugh.
Only Taehyun and Soobin knew the full truth.
Some stories begin with love at first sight.
Some begin with chance.
Theirs began with an empty apartment.
A lonely ghost.
A promise to come back.
And two people who refused to let each other be forgotten.
The apartment was gone.
The secrets were buried no longer.
The ghost had become a man again.
And every morning, when Taehyun woke to find Soobin still asleep beside him, warm beneath the blankets with messy hair and one arm thrown across his waist, he smiled.
Not because he had forgotten everything they had survived.
But because he remembered.
After twenty years of darkness...
Soobin had finally come home.
And this time...
He never had to leave again.