A Gentle Intruder (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 16

The charcoal crackled softly as it burned down. Each drop of meat fat that fell onto the coals sparked a vivid red bloom.

Da Jung sat a little distance away, gazing at the meat. She deliberately avoided looking at the flames if possible.

“…How have your dreams been lately, Yoon Da Jung?”

Kyung Jun asked, placing a well-grilled piece of meat onto Da Jung’s plate.

Da Jung’s nightmares came without warning—no fixed form, no foreshadowing. Though they always began differently, they always ended the same way:

Invariably, she’d be trapped within a square room, flames roaring up from the floor. She’d scream for help in that sealed chamber with no exits. Even though it was just a dream, it was horrifying every single time.

It was because she could never forget her older brother’s final moments—how he’d been trapped with no way out, engulfed by fire. His memory lingered deep in her subconscious, manifesting as nightmares that felt as if she herself had lived through them.

Sometimes she’d have them every night for an entire week; other times, during calmer phases, she’d go nearly half a year without one—but they never fully disappeared. Da Jung felt the nightmares were always lying in wait for their chance.

“I haven’t had any since we decided on this vacation. Not yet, anyway.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Whenever she thought of her brother’s agonizing death, her whole body ached. It felt as if part of him lived on inside her consciousness. Da Jung wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know how.

That accident marked the end of Yoon Woo Jung—and the beginning of Da Jung’s unfortunate life.

That morning, her brother had said he didn’t want to go on the school trip because he was feeling under the weather. But their mother insisted he couldn’t skip it last-minute and forced him to go after handing him cold medicine. Their father had waved goodbye with a smile, telling him he needed to be strong.

Her brother had smiled wearily and said goodbye to everyone.

“Mom, Dad, I’ll be back. Da Jung, even if you miss me, just hold on for a few days. I’ll be home soon.”

He’d promised to bring her a souvenir—but returned only as black ash. Da Jung’s family became victims of the “Jeju Resort Fire Incident,” recorded as the worst disaster that year.

“Yoon Da Jung! I’m sorry. Stop it. Stop thinking about it.”

Kyung Jun came over, placed his hands on both sides of Da Jung’s face, and gently lifted her chin. Her head had been sinking lower and lower toward the ground. His eyes were filled with regret, apology, and sorrow.

“I shouldn’t have asked. I won’t bring up dreams again.”

When Da Jung nodded, Kyung Jun finally let go of her face, let out a small sigh, and opened a beer. After gulping it down quickly, he picked up the tongs again.

“Kyung Jun.”

“Yoon Da Jung, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“For reminding you of your brother.”

Da Jung smiled.

“I have to remember him. He’s my brother. If I don’t, who will?”

She put on a slightly defiant look and shook her beer can. Kyung Jun raised his own can and clinked it lightly against hers. Da Jung set her can back down without even taking a sip.

“When I think about it, it’s already been thirteen years. I really hope no one ever has to die like that again… but those kinds of accidents still keep happening. Most major disasters are man-made. I just can’t stand those kinds of deaths.”

Her father, who had cried out for the truth to be uncovered, ended up losing both his home and job—and five years after her brother’s death, chose to follow him. At that time, Da Jung thought she’d reached the depths of misfortune. But a year later, her mother collapsed from a cerebral hemorrhage.

Da Jung was only twenty-one then. Seven years had passed since.

“I guess I shouldn’t have become a nurse. Back then, I acted like I had some grand calling—but really, I just wanted comfort. I wanted to forget about death by looking at newborn babies.”

“Don’t blame yourself. Your patients all know you’re an excellent nurse.”

Kyung Jun glanced at Da Jung’s empty plate and served her more meat.

He gave her just one or two pieces at a time so it wouldn’t get cold—considering her eating pace, it wasn’t difficult for him to keep her meat warm.

Kyung Jun deliberately changed the subject.

“My sister’s been visiting your mom’s hospital a lot! Honestly, it’s almost excessive. She doesn’t even treat our real mom that way, you know? Lee Kyung Mi says she never even calls our parents in Japan—but with your mom, there’s no daughter more devoted.”

“Really?”

“She goes about every other day, apparently. So don’t worry too much. She says your mom’s been doing well lately.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Da Jung gave a small smile. The lingering worry about her mother eased slightly inside her.

Caring for her mom in the nursing home was harder than she’d expected. She visited twice a week to provide care, which took not only time but also a significant amount of money for treatment.

For the past seven years, she hadn’t taken a single vacation while caring for her mother. This trip was her first real act of rebellion since becoming an adult.

“I’m really grateful to your sister.”

“By the way, Da Jung… Is someone in Room 101? The lights on the second floor are on.”

Kyung Jun’s sentence trailed off toward Room 101.

Da Jung figured he was deliberately making his presence known. Over the past few days, she’d noticed Jae Ho had never once turned on the second-floor lights. The strange signal left by that constantly irritating man instantly tightened the tension in her chest.

“Have you met them?”

Kyung Jun pointed subtly toward Room 101 with his tongs. Surprisingly, a lie slipped out easily.

“No.”

Da Jung didn’t want to talk about this anymore. But Kyung Jun seemed curious.

“Who could it be? A traveler? The pension owners’ family?”

“I don’t know.”

“Judging by how quiet it is, probably not a group.”

Da Jung stayed silent. She suddenly wondered just how much he was paying attention to her—and whether his level of concern matched hers.

**

Autumn deepened rapidly into night. The temperature dropped sharply after sunset, turning chilly. They couldn’t even sit for two full hours before packing up.

Kyung Jun stood first, sorting cans from bottles and stacking plates together. Da Jung gathered disposable cups and chopsticks, watching the charcoal that still glowed red.

It frightened her—but it was only a dying fire.

While Kyung Jun carried an armful of dishes back into the lodging, Da Jung grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over the coals. She just wanted it to go out quickly—but the scorching charcoal, as if in a final struggle, erupted in thick black smoke.

Startled, Da Jung stepped back two paces. White smoke billowed up explosively, momentarily blinding her. From the smoke alone, it looked as if the entire lodging was on fire.

“Hey! What are you doing? Come out!”

Kyung Jun rushed out from the lodging, alarmed. Knowing Da Jung’s trauma better than anyone, he quickly pushed her as far away as possible. Though the fire wasn’t actively blazing, even the smoke alone was terrifying to her. Da Jung obediently retreated.

“Sorry. I just wanted to put it out fast…”

“I’ll handle it.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have poured water. I should’ve just waited for it to burn out.”

“I’ll finish up here. You go inside and organize the dishes. Hurry.”

Kyung Jun’s stern expression as he pushed her away probably meant he was remembering that day.

The day the three of them—Kyung Mi, Kyung Jun, and Da Jung—had eaten at a quiet garden restaurant on the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province. After finishing their meal without a care, they stepped outside to find a large bonfire blazing in the courtyard. Da Jung, staring at those flames, vomited everything she’d eaten and eventually passed out.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Go inside.”

In the end, Kyung Jun grabbed Da Jung’s shoulders and gently but firmly ushered her back into the lodging.

Da Jung took a deep breath after briefly watching Kyung Jun through the window. Once somewhat calmed, she turned around and began tidying the sink—washing her hands first, moving dishes to the sink, and disposing of empty beer cans. Then, her hand reached toward her phone on the sofa, where her nerves had been fixed all along.

It felt like she was really in a relationship. She’d never been in one before, so she couldn’t describe it precisely—but it was like a soft feather pen gently scratching at her heart.

An hour earlier, Jae Ho had replied to her message.

The moment she saw the words, she realized she was already waist-deep in Jae Ho’s swamp.

Could she really just flirt a bit and then walk away? That swamp wasn’t dark and damp gray—it was soft, warm pink. Logically, this whole situation made no sense—but absurdly, it was real.

Was the place casting some kind of spell?

After all, a secluded seaside village like this seemed the perfect setting for fantasy to unfold.

She thought that, for now, she might as well stop overthinking and just follow her heart. Her feelings for him scared her—but she also wanted to let go of the reins she’d been gripping so tightly.

The more aware she became of her own feelings, the more frightening reality seemed.

She reread his message.

[Have you eaten yet? I have something to tell you.] [We held hands and hugged earlier, after all.] [If I gather just a little more courage,] [I’d like to kiss you now.]

A mysterious man—whether a prince on a white horse or a demon from hell—was casting a spell on her. Da Jung covered her mouth with one hand and held her breath for a moment.

I’ve gone mad.

She glanced out toward the terrace where Kyung Jun was finishing up with the grill. He’d cleared away all the charcoal and was now wiping down the table. Da Jung scanned the spotless terrace with her eyes, wondering when Kyung Jun might head in to shower.

She even considered whether she could open the front door silently.

Everything had spiraled into madness.

It was Jae Ho, this lodging, the sea—or, truthfully, Yoon Da Jung herself—who was truly losing her mind.

**

After finishing the dishes, Kyung Jun tidied the sink and came into the living room. Da Jung pretended to watch TV while eating a snack.

[I’d like to kiss you now.]

She couldn’t understand how someone could send such a direct message—and felt pathetic for glancing at Kyung Jun the moment she’d read it.

Still unsettled, she picked up her phone, opened the app, and aimlessly scrolled through Jae Ho’s fan cafe. Most posts expressed how much they missed him; occasional updates mentioned his movie releasing next year.

Some speculated he was overseas. There were even new members saying they’d just joined after finally getting past their “anti-fan phase.”

She’d promised herself not to visit the fan cafe for a month—but everything was falling apart.

“Why the sigh?”

Kyung Jun came over, opened a beer, and asked. Da Jung looked at him and said,

“…You eating more? Aren’t you going to sleep?”

“Sleep already? It’s barely evening.”

“Still… You drove for so long. Aren’t you tired?”

“Hmm.”

Kyung Jun frowned slightly.

“You know my limits—why ask now?”

He gulped his beer and leaned slightly toward Da Jung, picking up the remote. Da Jung mustered her courage and spoke.

“You smell. Stop drinking and go shower.”