Just Twilight

“Why is it that I’ve never seen this supposed bad sleeping habit of yours? Feels like I’ve been watching you sleep almost every day lately.”

Junyoung’s sharp questioning seemed to irk Beomjin, and he glanced back at her. But when she shot him a glare, white-eyed and defiant, he turned his head back with a reluctant sigh.

“I get like that sometimes when I have nightmares.”

“Oh, so even the great Kwon Beomjin has nightmares? What could possibly scare you?”

“There is something.”

The unexpected immediacy of his answer made Junyoung blink in surprise. Beomjin murmured quietly.

“That’s why I’m here.”

Junyoung perked up, her ears catching his words. He wasn’t just saying this idly—she could feel the weight behind it. Beomjin rarely talked about himself. Of course, the same was true for her.

It felt like an unspoken rule between them to not pry too deeply into each other’s lives. Yet, her curiosity about him was steadily growing.

Junyoung opened her mouth to speak but froze when she saw him glance at her.

“You’re staying out all night, and instead of going home, you came here again? Do you like studying that much?”

Yeah, what was it that made her crawl back to this place?

Junyoung scoffed internally at her own thoughts before responding aloud.

“I do. Of course I like it.”

Beomjin looked at her as if she were an alien. Avoiding his gaze, she added softly, almost to herself.

“It’s the only thing I can control.”

The atmosphere shifted instantly, the bustling energy dissipating into a heavy silence. Junyoung could feel Beomjin’s sharp gaze lingering on her, brushing against her cheek like an uncomfortable heat. Feeling awkward, she stumbled off the bed.

“Just write your apology letter. You don’t know how persistent Math can be. He won’t let it slide.”

As Junyoung descended the stairs, she heard the familiar sound of Beomjin flopping onto the bed behind her, as if passing the baton. Sitting down at the desk, she reached for a chair when a low voice drifted down.

“So, you and Na Seungwoon wrote your apology letters together, all buddy-buddy?”

The words, teasing as they were, sent a jolt through her, and she felt her mood bristle. Junyoung raised her eyebrows and looked up.

“Don’t talk nonsense. What’s there to be ‘buddy-buddy’ about with him?”

A faint scoff drifted down, a sound perched somewhere between mockery and amusement. Annoyed, Junyoung pulled her book from her bag and turned to glare over her shoulder.

“Stop bringing up Na Seungwoon around me.”

She tried to sound firm, lowering her voice as if issuing a warning. But the response was nothing but silence. The crease on Junyoung’s forehead deepened.

“Are you asleep?”

“I already am.”

The muffled reply came grumpily from beneath the covers. Junyoung smirked faintly and opened her book.

Thanks to the chaotic distraction that was Kwon Beomjin, she found herself able to block out thoughts of Hye Soo and her mom, sinking effortlessly into the pages before her.

***

Today, the wooden stick in his hand felt as smooth and familiar as ever. Yawning, Beomjin descended the hill, and Junyoung, following behind, stretched her mouth into a yawn of her own.

She had stayed later than usual, catching up on memorizing English vocabulary. Still mentally rearranging the alphabet in her head, Junyoung looked up drowsily as Beomjin suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“What is it?”

“The streetlight’s out.”

Looking up at his words, she saw that the stretch of road ahead was darker than usual. The road had streetlights spaced widely apart, and one of them wasn’t working.

“How much farther is it to your house?”

Stepping onto the even pavement, Beomjin glanced back and asked. Junyoung smirked.

“No need to worry. I can walk alone. Oh, don’t tell me you feel bad about choking me and are pretending to care?”

The darkness hid it somewhat, but with the menacing stick in his hand and his expressionless face, Beomjin’s appearance was slightly intimidating. Junyoung cleared her throat and added.

“It’s not far. Besides, the road’s empty, and there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“There’s someone on that road right now.”

“What? Where?”

Startled, Junyoung craned her neck to peer around him. Squinting, she could make out a darker shadow between the unlit stretch of road and the next streetlight. It looked like someone standing still.

If the figure had been walking in any direction, she wouldn’t have paid much attention. But the person wasn’t moving at all.

Without Beomjin’s sharp night vision, she might not have noticed the figure until they were dangerously close. This road, desolate by 10 p.m., felt like another world past 1 a.m., utterly silent. Even though Junyoung had gotten used to coming home at this hour after her visits to the warehouse house, she had never encountered anyone on the way.

“Well, if you’re that worried, walk me to the next streetlight.”

Still watching the shadow intently, she mumbled. At her words, Beomjin let out a soft laugh and adjusted his grip on the stick. Junyoung followed his solid frame as they walked slowly toward the figure. The shadow didn’t budge, even as they got closer.

Feeling oddly tense, Junyoung hunched her shoulders. Then suddenly, her hand slipped from the stick.

“...Mom?”

Hearing her whisper, Beomjin turned, startled, and followed her gaze. The shadow began to stir, swaying like someone waking from a deep sleep. As it stepped into the light, Junyoung broke into a run.

“Mom!”

Her cry wasn’t one of joy or surprise; it carried a sharp, scolding tone. It was clear this wasn’t a happy reunion. As Junyoung dashed forward, Beomjin instinctively tucked the stick behind his back and studied the woman who appeared before them.

Her disheveled hair was loosely tied, and she wore a black dress. Her face, gaunt and hollow, featured sunken eyes that gave her an eerie look.

She was tall and had striking features, the kind that might have once been called beautiful. But the overwhelming sense of despair radiating from her, coupled with the unsettling intensity in her wide eyes, stripped away any allure.

“What are you doing here? Go home. Let’s go home.”

Junyoung, flustered, grabbed her mother’s arm to lead her back. The moment she did, the woman’s long arm swung violently, slapping Junyoung’s cheek with startling speed. The stick slipped from Beomjin’s hand, rolling across the ground.

The woman let out a guttural sound, almost like a growl, and struck Junyoung’s face again. Unable to scream, Junyoung collapsed to the ground as her mother’s wild, glaring eyes locked onto her. The woman lunged, aiming for Junyoung’s ears with claw-like hands, but Beomjin sprang into action.

Her frenzied movements showed no aim, no intention to strike a specific target. She lashed out indiscriminately, shrieking unintelligibly, her hands flailing with manic energy as if to crush everything before her.

Beomjin absorbed her blows with his back and shoulders, grimacing. He could feel Junyoung trembling in his arms.

He wasn’t used to this kind of violence. The people he knew were deliberate, calculated—they knew exactly where to strike to incapacitate. Violence was efficient, either ending with the victim unconscious or the aggressor overpowered.

This was different. It was the desperate flailing of someone weak, but the sheer chaos made it no less terrifying.

As he considered how much more he could endure, the woman’s hand slapped his ear and the back of his neck with a sharp, loud smack. Startled, Junyoung looked up, her wide eyes glistening with tears. Her gaze hardened as her brows shot up.

“Move.”

“What?”

“Move, Kwon Beomjin.”

Pushing him aside, Junyoung sprang to her feet. Her mother’s hand came flying again, but this time Junyoung caught it. Gripping the frail wrist with a force that seemed intent on snapping it, she hissed through clenched teeth, her face flushed.

“Tell me. Is this because I didn’t come home? Is that why you’re doing this?”

Her mother let out a garbled sound, struggling in Junyoung’s grip. But Junyoung’s fingers only tightened, her voice icy with scorn.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to act like a normal mom disciplining her kid for staying out late. When did we ever have rules in this house? I grew up by my own rules, followed my own sense of right and wrong.”

“Nu! Nu!”

“If you’re going to hit me, don’t bother with excuses. Just do it like you always have. Don’t pretend to care. It’s disgusting.”

Junyoung’s voice broke as tears spilled from her chin. Letting go of her mother’s wrist, she turned and ran into the darkness.

Rubbing his stinging neck, Beomjin slowly stood. He watched Junyoung’s staggering figure disappear into the night and sighed deeply. Turning back, his gaze met the woman’s. Her black, unblinking eyes were locked on him.

She looked like a brittle winter branch, so fragile that the slightest touch might reduce her to dust. Though she no longer appeared violent, the malice in her gaze was unmistakable.

She wasn’t chasing Junyoung or lashing out at him. She was waiting for something else. Beomjin understood the unspoken language of animals and met her gaze steadily.

“I’m Kwon Beomjin. I’m in the same class as Yoon Junyoung.”@@novelbin@@

The woman didn’t move, didn’t blink. Her uneven breaths were the only sound, animal-like and heavy. Beomjin added softly.

“You don’t have to believe me, but there’s nothing to worry about. Junyoung hasn’t done anything wrong. All she thinks about is studying.”

After a tense moment, the woman slowly stepped back. Turning her body, she shuffled toward the direction Junyoung had run. Beomjin exhaled through gritted teeth, his shoulders slumping as the tension drained from his body.

His entire frame ached from the random strikes he’d endured, but his mind was too overloaded to process the pain.

Everything felt chaotic, as if he’d been caught in the eye of a storm.