It started with a sock.
Just one. Small. Blue. Slightly fuzzy. Innocent in appearance. Deadly in consequence.
"Is this yours?" Yuna held it up between two fingers like it was biohazard evidence. She was wearing her usual comfy hoodie, hair tied up in a bun that screamed, "I'm too pretty to do laundry."
Jin-woo squinted from his laptop. "I don't wear blue socks."
"Then why was it under your bed?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I don't even own socks. I work barefoot like a true capitalist."
"That explains the smell."
"Rude but fair."
Yuna tossed the sock onto his desk. "Then whose is it?"
They stared at it in silence.
And so began The Sock War of Room 402.
It quickly escalated.
Jin-woo, being the agent of chaos he was, slid the sock into her backpack the next day before she left for class. She found it during psych lecture while reaching for a pen.
Revenge was swift.That evening, he opened his textbook to find the sock lovingly folded inside, nestled between "Chapter 6: Social Behavior" and "Chapter 7: Passive Aggression."
"Impressive," he muttered. "She has evolved."
Three days later:
Jin-woo yawned, opening his instant ramen cup… and froze.
Floating among the noodles: the sock.
"HOW DID YOU EVEN—"
Yuna, sipping coffee calmly across the room, shrugged. "Laundry is a battlefield."
Meanwhile, the dorm's unofficial group chat lit up with gossip.
Minji94: Room 402 is cursed. I heard Jin-woo talks to socks now.TallChocoGuy: Bro tried to return a sock to the vending machine.BreadFairy: Noona in that room's kinda hot tho.Jinwoo_is_God: That was ONE TIME and it was a business transaction.
Jin-woo tried to ignore it, but people started calling him "Sockboy."
He began walking faster in hallways.
Back in Room 402, things weren't any more peaceful.
He burst in one afternoon holding a plastic bag. "I've solved it."
Yuna raised a brow. "Solved what?"
"The sock mystery. I did research. Interviews. Forensics."
"You mean you asked the guy next door and sniffed the sock."
"…Detective work is messy."
He dumped out the bag. It contained seven mismatched socks.
"I call this: 'The Sock Collection of Doom.'"He pointed to each dramatically."This one? Found in the communal laundry. Smells like regret.This one? Slightly singed. Source: unknown.And this—" he held up a neon orange ankle sock, "—was under your pillow last night."
Yuna blinked. "I have questions."
"Not now. I'm in my crime documentary arc."
He turned back to the board he'd taped to the wall. It had strings. Pins. Arrows. The sock was now evidence.
At the center: a printed photo of the dorm's laundry machine with the caption: "Does it eat souls... or socks?"
That night, they called a truce.
"New rule," Yuna said, crawling into her bunk. "No weaponizing laundry."
"Agreed," Jin-woo replied, sipping tea like a war veteran. "The sock war took too many casualties."
"…Did you put hot sauce in my shampoo this morning?"
"…Define 'hot.'"
"Jin-woo."
A slipper smacked the underside of the top bunk.
🖼️ Bonus Illustration Description:
Scene: Jin-woo standing in front of a corkboard covered in socks, red string, and wild scribbles like a conspiracy theorist. Yuna sits nearby eating ice cream straight from the tub, looking completely unfazed.
Caption:"The sock was planted. The system is flawed."
A few days later, peace returned. The sock was forgotten. Mostly.
Until the dorm RA posted a sign on the bulletin board:
"LOST SOCK? FOUND IN DORM 402. OWNER CAN CLAIM IF THEY NAME THE COLOR, BRAND, AND THE SECRET PHRASE."
The secret phrase?
"Long live the sock king."
Yuna stared at it in horror. "You didn't."
Jin-woo beamed. "I did."
"You're going to get us evicted."
"Worth it."
They got a knock on their door later that day. Jin-woo opened it, expecting the RA.
Instead, it was a girl with bright green hair, wearing mismatched slippers.
"Is this… yours?" she asked, holding up a matching blue sock.
Jin-woo gasped theatrically. "The prophecy!"
She looked confused. Yuna stepped in before he could say anything else.
"Just take your sock," she said, dragging him backward by the collar.
He gave the girl a thumbs up. "Nice slipper game!"
The door slammed.
Yuna turned to him. "You're not allowed near bulletin boards anymore."
"Free marketing," he mumbled.
That night, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
"Noona," he called.
"Yeah?"
"Do you think there's a black market for lost socks?"
"…Jin-woo."
"Hear me out. People lose socks. I find socks. Supply and demand."
"Go to sleep."
"We could call it… SockXpress."
"Sleep."
"Powered by AI."
"Sleep."
He sighed. "Fine. But if I wake up rich tomorrow, don't act surprised."
She rolled over. "If you wake up rich, I'm sleeping on the top bunk."
"…You monster."