Chapter 15:
The man's voice haunted Joon long after the encounter. Though the figure had melted into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared, the sense of menace lingered like a cold wind through the quiet village.
Joon didn't tell Hana or Minho about it. How could he? How could he explain to them what he didn't fully understand himself—that danger had followed him even here, into this idyllic life he was beginning to cherish?
Instead, he threw himself deeper into the routines of their life, trying to drown his unease in work and family.
Every morning, Joon rose with the sun to tend to the fields. It was grueling work, but there was something grounding about it. The soil beneath his hands, the sweat on his brow—it reminded him that he was building something tangible.
Hana worked tirelessly alongside him, her determination and humor lightening even the hardest days. And Minho… Minho was a burst of joy in every moment, dragging Joon into games, experiments, and mischief.
Yet even in the warmth of their laughter, Joon couldn't shake the cold shadow looming in the back of his mind.
One evening, as they sat together after dinner, Minho excitedly showed Joon a drawing he had made. It was of their family standing in front of their cottage, Lucky sprawled at their feet, and the village in the background.
"See? You're the tallest, Dad!" Minho said proudly, pointing to the figure of Joon in the drawing.
Joon smiled, though his heart ached. What happens to them if I disappear?
Later that night, as he and Hana sat on the porch, she finally spoke up.
"You've been restless lately," she said, her voice gentle but probing. "I can see it in the way you look at Minho… and at me."
Joon exhaled slowly. "It's nothing. I'm just… trying to make sure everything's okay."
Hana studied him carefully. "You know you don't have to do it all alone, right? Whatever's on your mind, I'm here."
Her words hit him harder than he expected. He wanted to tell her everything—the shifting lives, the strange man, the weight of knowing this peace could crumble at any moment. But how could she possibly understand?
"I know," he said quietly. "Thank you."
Despite the shadows in his heart, Joon found moments of real happiness. He and Hana worked together to repair the cottage's roof, laughing as Minho and Lucky ran circles around them.
They attended a village gathering where Hana's peach pie was the star of the meal. Joon even joined Minho in his school's talent show, playing a clumsy tune on a borrowed guitar while the boy sang.
These moments became treasures to Joon, pieces of a life he didn't want to lose.
But the peace didn't last.
One afternoon, as Joon was chopping firewood near the edge of the forest, he felt it again—that sense of being watched. He paused, scanning the trees, his heart pounding.
"Who's there?" he called, gripping the axe tightly.
There was no answer, but the feeling didn't fade.
When he returned to the cottage, he found Minho and Hana playing in the garden. Their laughter was a balm to his nerves, but it also sharpened his resolve. Whoever was watching him, whatever they wanted—he wouldn't let them harm his family.
Joon began taking precautions. He reinforced the locks on the cottage doors and windows, added extra lighting to the garden, and made sure Minho never went anywhere alone.
Hana noticed, of course.
"Joon, what's going on?" she asked one night.
"Just being careful," he replied.
Her eyes narrowed. "Careful about what?"
He hesitated, then placed a hand over hers. "I just want to make sure you and Minho are safe. That's all."
Though she didn't press further, the worry in her eyes told him she wasn't convinced.
One evening, while the family was having dinner, Lucky suddenly started barking furiously. Joon jumped up, his heart racing.
"Stay here," he told Hana and Minho, grabbing the axe he kept by the door.
He stepped outside into the twilight, his eyes scanning the yard. Lucky was standing near the fence, growling at something—or someone—in the shadows.
"Whoever you are," Joon said, his voice steady but cold, "show yourself."
There was a long pause. Then, from the darkness, a man stepped forward. It was the same figure from the village square, his face now partially visible in the dim light.
"You've gotten comfortable here, haven't you?" the man said, his voice laced with malice.
Joon tightened his grip on the axe. "What do you want?"
The man smirked. "To remind you that peace doesn't last. Not for people like you."
Joon took a step forward. "You'll stay away from my family. Whatever your problem is, it's with me."
The man's smirk widened. "Oh, I intend to. But the question is… can you protect them forever?"
Before Joon could respond, the man disappeared into the shadows.
That night, Joon stayed awake, sitting by the window with the axe in his lap. He knew the man's words were meant to rattle him, but they struck a nerve.
As the hours passed, Joon stared at Hana and Minho's sleeping forms, a lump forming in his throat. He had built a life with them, a life he had come to love.