Jisung

The summer heat in the suburbs of Hadano – a small, quiet settlement in Kanagawa Prefecture – was suffocating. The air stood completely still, thick and heavy. The windows were wide open in hopes of catching even a faint breeze, but it brought absolutely no relief.

The clock read 2:27 AM. The laptop monitor in the living room dimly illuminated the desk as Minho's fingers tapped rhythmically across the keys – remote work had long since blurred the lines between day and night. A loud, heavy thud from the bedroom suddenly forced him to look up from the screen.

Pushing himself up from his chair, Minho reached for the nearest bookshelf, grabbing a thick hardcover volume. It was a ridiculous weapon against a potential intruder, but it offered a shred of reassurance. His footsteps down the hallway were cautious and soundless. The bedroom door stood ajar, and as he gently pushed it open, his breath caught.

A man stood by the open window. Turned sideways, his shoulders heaved with heavy, uneven breaths. A dark, wet stain was spreading rapidly across the right side of his gray shirt.

Hearing the door creak, the stranger spun around, and his eyes – a deep, unnatural crimson – locked onto Minho's.

Everything inside Minho froze. A cold wave of fear rooted him to the spot, but before he could even try to make a rational choice, he noticed the violent tremor shaking the intruder's body. The man was tensing every muscle, fighting a desperate battle against his own raw instincts. Realizing the stranger was barely holding himself back from lunging, Minho took a slow, careful step backward.

— Don't come closer, the stranger rasped, pressing his hand harder against the bleeding wound.

Minho's fingers tightened around the spine of the book. The stranger's gaze dropped to Minho's neck for a fraction of a second, but the injured man forcefully tore his eyes away, desperately clinging to whatever was left of his self-control.