''~°.HIDE AND SEEK.°~'' | YEONGYU

THE BEGINNING #2

The school dismissed them early. "Caution" tapes were all around the auditorium that no one except the police and the staff were allowed in. Outside, parents crowded the gates. Some whispered, some stared. No one waited for Beomgyu. Not that he expected anyone.

He pulled his hood on, trying to maintain a low profile and kept walking.

"Beomgyu"

The voice was close...too close.

He nearly jumped before realizing who it was.

Yeonjun.

The older boy fell into step beside effortlessly, his expression unreadable. Hands shoved into his jacket pockets, posture loose like nothing could touch him.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, though his voice lacked conviction.

"You don't seem 'fine' to me."

Beomgyu didn't argue. He wasn't sure he could even form words at that moment.

The streets grew quieter as they moved away from the school. Yeonjun matched his pace easily, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

"You shouldn't walk around alone."

"I'm used to it."

Yeonjun glanced at him but said nothing.

The building loomed ahead.

"Here?"

The boy nodded.

"You live alone?"

He hesitated. "Yeah."

Yeonjun glanced at him before he spoke up in a calm tone that carried an edge of warning...

"Keep your doors locked. Don't open them for anyone."

"....Okay."

Yeonjun's eyes lingered on him, searching for something unspoken.

"Get some rest. You're going to need it."

Before he could respond, Yeonjun turned and walked off into the fading daylight, leaving him standing in the doorway with his thoughts rattling in his chest.

Beomgyu stood in the doorway for a long time after Yeonjun disappeared around the corner, staring at the empty street until the chill crept into his bones.

Then he slipped inside...The apartment door clicked shut behind him, the sound unnervingly loud in the silence. He turned the lock once, twice, then slid the chain across with trembling fingers.

The curtains were already drawn, but he checked them anyway, tugging at the edges to make sure no cracks remained. The world outside felt too close, too dangerous.

His backpack slid off his shoulder and hit the floor with a soft thud. He didn't bother picking it up. His legs felt heavy, his chest tight as if the air itself was pressing in.

He stumbled to his bedroom, shutting the door and twisting the lock with the same frantic urgency.

The room was small, walls bare, a thin mattress pushed into the corner. He dropped onto it, curling in on himself until his knees pressed against his chest.

The day replayed in jagged fragments.

The blare of the siren outside the gym.

The sharp voice calling his name.

The officers' flat, unreadable faces.

The whispers like knives in his back.