Residents (2)
“What’s wrong?!”
“I-It’s just that!”
I rushed to the bathroom and grabbed the doorknob, on the verge of yanking it open—then snapped back to my senses and asked calmly.
“Are you naked by any chance?”
“Yes, but that’s not the problem...!”
“Is there a problem?”
Several seconds of silence passed before the woman’s trembling voice came from the other side.
“I thought you were bringing more water like before, so I waited... then out of curiosity, I turned on the shower, and hot water came pouring out... I’m really sorry! I think I should just sleep outside tonight.”
She must have been carrying her sister around for days without proper sleep or a wash, so she’d completely lost her sense of reality—classic cognitive dissonance.
“Just use it comfortably. Fill the tub and take a bath if you want.”
“How could I possibly...”
I’d have to be firm.
“Brush your teeth with a new toothbrush, use all the shampoo and body wash, and take your time washing up with the hot water. If the shower stops and you still smell when you come out, then I’ll kick you out for real.”
“Yes...”
Only after my stern tone did the sound of the shower start up. I let out a sigh of relief and headed back to my room.
Leaning against the wall, I played the only game app on my smartphone that didn’t need internet: Ball Bounce. Every time I played it, regret washed over me—I should’ve paid more attention to single-player mobile games instead of just PC and console stuff.
“Who could’ve predicted this?”
About an hour later, I heard footsteps.
“I’m all done showering. Thank you so much.”
I stood and opened the door.
“Whoa...”
I’d known she was a beauty even covered in blood, but seeing her clean and fresh, an involuntary exclamation escaped me. In a normal world, she could’ve been an influencer, living off her looks alone. And that shampoo scent wafting from her—the first I’d ever smelled fresh off a woman—made my heart race.
“Uh... I left some clothes for your sister here too, so change her into those. I’ll bring water, so drink up. If you need the bathroom or tap water, just go to the bathroom. You’ll sleep in this room, right?”
“Yes...”
“I’ll bring bedding and blankets for the floor.”
“I can just sleep on the bare floor... No, thank you!”
Maybe she thought refusing my kindness was riskier; she started to decline but forced a smile instead.
I brought blankets and pillows, and as I left the room, she clasped her hands together and bowed deeply.
“Thank you!”
After the door closed, I grabbed a blanket and lay on the sofa. For some reason, sleeping in my room felt uneasy. If she needed something, there were five rooms on the first floor—better for me to be in the living room than make her check each one.
Come to think of it, I never asked her name.
Awakening my ability had changed more than I could count. Every room on the second floor was locked. I’d even smashed a doorknob with a hammer once, but the hammer broke instead. I instinctively knew they’d open under certain conditions, but I had no clue what those were.
The second floor was tame by comparison. The rooftop now had a small greenhouse. But the biggest change? The day after awakening, a door appeared on a blank wall on the first floor. It led to stairs, then a basement with eight rooms—four on each side—all locked like upstairs, needing some condition to unlock.
Except the first one on the left. It had two vents and stayed cool. I used it to store meds and canned goods.
I was curious about the locked rooms, but with no way to open them and the first floor already absurdly spacious for one person, I wasn’t desperate.
Glancing at the clock, it was past 5 a.m. Lying on the sofa, eyes closed, I reflected on the night’s events. I’d brought strangers home, saved their lives, let them bathe, given them beds. More comfort than anxiety. This must be what they mean by the smell of humanity.
I woke at 12:30 p.m. After stretching as usual and downing a multivitamin, I eyed the door. Approaching quietly, I listened. Deep, steady breathing—she was still asleep. Made sense; she hadn’t slept properly in ages, and last night was spent tending her sister.
What to cook for everyone? I mostly ate retort pouches and cans, so my dismal skills limited options. I grabbed two meat-tomato cans from the drawer and boiled water for pasta.
“But can a patient eat pasta?”
I pulled another pot for porridge. Never used anything but a rice cooker, so I eyeballed extra water and tossed in freeze-dried veggie mix I usually ignored. Tasting the finished porridge, it was decent—just bland, so a pinch of salt fixed it.
“Not bad.”
The door creaked open behind me. She stood there, hair tousled from deep sleep, hands demurely clasped, watching me.
“Sleep well?”
“Yes... I only realized it wasn’t a dream when I woke up. Thank you.”
“I’ve heard ‘thank you’ like a hundred times already. How’s your sister?”
“She’s sleeping soundly...”
She wasn’t great at hiding emotions. Her eyes screamed, We’ll have to leave soon, right?
I ladled porridge into a bowl and handed it over.
“You don’t have to leave.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m no doctor, but in her condition, even an awakener wouldn’t last long outside.”
“Can we really stay...?”
“Leave whenever you want.”
I was most surprised that these words flowed so easily from me. Cooking the porridge confirmed it: preparing food for someone sick, sharing a meal—it was pure joy. Nothing like my old zombie-like eating just to survive. My soul felt alive.
Tears welled in her puffy eyes again.
“No ‘thank yous’ today.”
“Yes.”
She smiled through tears—hard to tell if it was joy or sorrow.
“This is porridge for your sister.”
“This much already... Th— I mean, thank you.”
“I’m doing pasta for us—want some?”
“Yes...”
How long had she starved, wandering? She stared at the porridge bowl like it was treasure. Her gulp echoed loudly in the kitchen.
“Oh, right... things were hectic, so I never asked your name.”
“Oh.”
She set the bowl on the table, clasped her hands, and bowed.
“My name is Han Seol. My sister is Byeol... Han Byeol.”
Rare single-syllable names. They suited her beauty. Mine was painfully ordinary by comparison.
“I’m Seo Do-hyun.”
“Do-hyun...”
Han Seol murmured my name with a smile.
“I’ll make yours too, so feed your sister first.”
“Yes!”
She took the porridge to the room. “Food” for me was just microwaving meat sauce over boiled pasta, mixing, and dusting with parsley and cheese powder.
With seven minutes till the pasta was done, I stood by the door and eavesdropped.
“Byeol, wake up a bit and eat this. You haven’t had anything in days.”
“Seol... Is this heaven?”
“What? We’re still alive.”
She’d called her “sister” to me, but as twins, they used names casually.
“Then where are we? I’m alive, lying on a warm, soft bed, and you’re holding veggie porridge? This doesn’t add up...”
Han Byeol’s speech was sluggish from lingering painkillers.
“I’ll explain later. Eat quick, take your meds, and sleep more.”
“O-Okay...”
Clinking utensils, then Han Byeol’s voice.
“It’s good.”
“Yeah? Good. Finish it up. Eat to get better fast.”
“Okay.”
First-time porridge success—relief. Right as the pasta finished, Han Seol emerged. Empty bowl; I couldn’t help smiling.
“She was starving—ate it all and passed out again.”
“Good. Almost ready, so sit. Let’s eat.”
“Yes...”
Han Seol sat, glancing nervously. Being freeloading while only receiving must’ve gnawed at her.
I dumped pasta and sauce into a big bowl, mixed, plated it up. Sprinkled parsley and cheese powder, set a fork in front of her.
“Dig in.”
“Yes... I’ll eat well.”
Han Seol took her first bite daintily, then—starvation unleashed—she demolished the pasta at breakneck speed. Nose to plate, basically. She polished it off in seconds; I boiled more noodles and served three portions’ worth. She ate sheepishly but savorily.
“Thank you... I ate well.”
I set coffee in front of her.
“One thing I should ask first: where are you from? You were in a military uniform.”
“Ah, um...”
She blinked for seconds, then nodded resolutely.
“No harm in telling now. Han Byeol and I were soldiers in the Republic of Korea Reconstruction Government until recently.”
“Their base is pretty far from here, though?”
Republic of Korea Reconstruction Government
Awakener officers staged a coup, splintering into warlord factions. The Reconstruction Government was the biggest, claiming legitimacy to rebuild Korea and opposing the official government. Info from Jeong Su-hwan—not 100% verified.
Han Seol sipped her coffee.
“Yes, it’s a ways off. Half a year ago, they started secret bases all over Seoul.”
“Keep going.”
I hadn’t expected outside news to be this riveting. Secret bases?
“They secretly contacted nearby survivor groups, demanding subordination. Most refused.”
Her coffee-holding hand began to tremble.
“The Reconstruction Government ordered a raid on one group as an example—for rejecting them.”