9. Whispers from the Dark

Joon-hyuk, now eight years old, ran through the dark streets, his small feet pounding against the pavement. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart hammering inside his chest. He didn't know where he was going—all he knew was that he had to get away. Away from the horror, away from the blood, away from the cold, lifeless eyes of his parents.

His vision blurred with tears, his body trembling uncontrollably. He ran until his legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the damp grass of a small park. The cold air bit into his skin, but he barely felt it. Darkness closed in, swallowing him whole.

When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in the park. Instead, he found himself standing in a vast, empty space. The ground beneath him was smooth like glass, reflecting an endless void above. A strange, eerie mist swirled around his feet, thick and heavy. It was silent—too silent.

Then, a voice echoed.

"Finally, you're here."

Joon-hyuk spun around, his small body tensing in fear. A boy stood before him—one who looked exactly like him, yet completely different. His hair was pitch black, slicked back, his eyes dark and unreadable. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, yet something about him radiated danger.

"W-Who are you?" Joon-hyuk stammered, his eight-year-old voice shaking.

The boy smirked, tilting his head. "I'm you. Or at least... the part of you that you've been ignoring."

Joon-hyuk took a step back, his breathing shallow. "No... that's not true. I'm me! You're lying!"

"Oh?" The dark-haired boy chuckled, taking a step closer. "Tell me, Joon-hyuk, did it feel good?"

Joon-hyuk's stomach twisted. He knew what the boy was talking about. That moment—when he had taken the knife, when his hands had moved without thought, when the rage had consumed him so completely that everything else had faded away. The warmth of the blood, the silence that followed. The fear, the power.

"I... I didn't want to do it," Joon-hyuk whispered, hugging himself. "I had no choice..."

"Exactly," the boy said, his voice smooth, understanding. "You had no choice. But I did. I made that choice for you. I protected you when you were too weak to protect yourself. And now? You need me."

Joon-hyuk shook his head violently. "No! I don't need you! I don't want this!"

The dark-haired boy simply smiled, his expression eerily calm. "You can deny it all you want. But one day, you'll understand. When the world turns against you, when everyone else leaves you behind, I'll be the only one left. I'll always be here."

Joon-hyuk squeezed his eyes shut, his body trembling. "Go away..."

There was no response. When he opened his eyes, the boy was gone. The void had disappeared. And he was awake.

Sunlight filtered through the window, casting soft shadows across an unfamiliar ceiling. Joon-hyuk blinked, his eyes adjusting. He was lying in a bed, the blanket pulled up to his chin. The faint scent of lavender filled the air.

"You're awake."

Joon-hyuk turned his head and saw Mi-jin sitting beside the bed, her small hands gripping the blanket tightly. Her usual bright, playful expression was replaced by something serious, something worried.

"You scared us," she muttered. "You just disappeared."

Joon-hyuk swallowed hard, memories of the previous night rushing back. The cold, the running, the dark-haired boy… His fingers curled into the blanket.

Mi-jin hesitated before speaking again. "You can stay here for now. My mom said it's okay."

Joon-hyuk didn't respond. His throat felt dry, his body heavy. The weight of what had happened pressed down on him, suffocating.

Before Mi-jin could say anything else, the door burst open.

Lee Zin stomped inside, his face twisted in frustration. "Tsk. What's your deal, huh? Running away in the middle of the night like some idiot? You got Mi-jin worried sick."

Joon-hyuk didn't reply. He knew Lee Zin wasn't actually concerned about him. He was just mad that Mi-jin had been upset because of him.

Lee Zin clicked his tongue and crossed his arms. "You better not do that again. Got it?"

Mi-jin shot him a glare. "Lee Zin! Don't yell at him!"

Lee Zin huffed but didn't say anything else. He turned his gaze away, obviously annoyed.

Seong Yohan stepped into the room quietly, looking hesitant. Unlike Lee Zin, his eyes held no irritation—only concern. "Joon-hyuk… are you okay?"

Joon-hyuk forced a nod, though he knew he wasn't fooling anyone. Yohan seemed to notice but didn't press further. Instead, he stepped closer and placed a small hand on Joon-hyuk's arm.

"If you ever need to talk… I'll listen," Yohan said softly.

Joon-hyuk clenched his jaw. He didn't deserve their kindness. Not after what he had done. But even as he thought that, he knew something had changed. The world around him felt different. Or maybe… he was the one who had changed.

Mi-jin sat beside him again, holding onto his hand tightly. "You don't have to say anything, but… you're not alone, okay?"

Joon-hyuk lowered his gaze. Not alone? That wasn't true. There was still someone else inside him. Watching. Waiting.

And he didn't know how much longer he could keep him locked away.