Rising

Minjeong had been having strange dreams lately—nightmares, really. Every night, the same dream played on an endless loop, never changing, never letting her rest. She was always running, chased by something vast and shadowy, a force so dark it seemed to drain the very color from the world around her. Desperate to escape, she would dive into a river—an act that surprised even her, considering she could barely swim. The water would swallow her whole, dragging her down into its depths. Just as the darkness threatened to consume her, something would seize her, pulling her toward the surface. But before she could ever break through, before she could see who—or what—had saved her, she would wake up.

Minjeong shot up in bed, heart pounding, skin damp with sweat. It wasn’t the first time she’d woken like this, but somehow, tonight felt heavier. She let out a shaky breath, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. Her eyes flicked across the dark room, settling on the small figure curled up in the bed across from her. Yizhuo was still sound asleep, unaware. Peaceful. Minjeong wished she could feel the same. She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly. “I swear…” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t usually care about dreams. Never thought twice about what they meant.

But this one…

This one felt like a warning.

It didn’t take long for Minjeong to quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake Yizhuo as she tiptoed across the cool floorboards. Her legs felt heavy, like she was wading through water. She made her way to the living room and all but collapsed onto the couch, a tired sigh slipping past her lips.

She grabbed the remote, flicking through channels without really paying attention to them—romantic dramas, old variety shows, the late-night news. Eventually, she left it on the news, letting the soft murmur of the anchors fill the silence as she leaned back and closed her eyes, hoping the noise would drown out the echo of her dream and her racing heart.

“Can’t sleep?”

The voice startled her. Minjeong’s eyes snapped open, and she whipped her head toward the sound. She hadn’t even noticed Jimin standing there, just beyond the armrest, her silhouette lit faintly by the glow of the TV.

Minjeong sat up too quickly, heart jumping for an entirely different reason now. “Sorry, sunbae… I didn’t hear you,” she mumbled, quickly smoothing out her hair and shifting to make room.

Jimin let out a quiet hum as she lowered herself onto the couch beside her, her long jet-black hair pulled into a loose, messy bun, strands falling around her face. She didn’t say anything else right away, only glanced at Minjeong out of the corner of her eye, as if she could see right through her.

The weight of the silence settled between them, broken only by the low murmur of the news anchor and the occasional flicker of light across their faces. Minjeong kept her gaze on the TV, but she could feel Jimin’s presence like static in the air, impossible to ignore.

“You okay?” Jimin’s voice was quieter this time, almost hesitant.

Minjeong’s throat felt tight. She swallowed before answering, keeping her eyes forward. “Yeah. Just… couldn’t sleep.”

Jimin hummed again, like she didn’t quite believe her but wasn’t going to press. She leaned back into the cushions, her shoulder brushing lightly against Minjeong’s. The contact sent a small jolt through her, something she quickly tried to ignore.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. The TV droned on about something mundane, but Minjeong wasn’t listening. Her mind was still spinning, caught between the remnants of her dream and the unexpected warmth beside her.

“You always come out here when you can’t sleep?” Jimin asked suddenly, voice softer now, almost like she was trying not to wake the house.

Minjeong shook her head, chewing on her bottom lip before answering. “No… tonight’s just… different.”

She didn’t know why she said that. Maybe because Jimin felt like someone who wouldn’t laugh at her for saying something like that.

Jimin glanced at her then, really looked at her. “Different how?”

Minjeong hesitated, fingers fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. The words felt too heavy, too ridiculous to say out loud. She almost told her it was nothing—but when she met Jimin’s eyes, calm and patient, it made her want to say something real.

“I had a dream,” Minjeong murmured finally. “It felt… wrong.”

Jimin didn’t smile, didn’t tease. She only nodded, as if she understood exactly what Minjeong meant.

“Sometimes dreams aren’t just dreams,” she said quietly, almost like she was speaking from experience.

Minjeong looked at her then, brows drawing together. For a second, Jimin’s expression flickered—something knowing, something unreadable—but it was gone just as quickly.

Before Minjeong could say anything else, Jimin stood, stretching lazily like the conversation hadn’t shifted something in the air.

“Try to get some sleep,” she said, voice gentle. “If you need to talk… I’ll be around.”

And with that, she padded back toward her room, leaving Minjeong sitting there, her heart beating far too fast for someone who was supposed to be calming down.

—————

Minjeong kept Jimin’s words with her for the rest of the week. Somehow they managed to linger longer than she expected, settling in the background of her mind like a quiet reassurance. Despite the chaos of her days —the relentless assignments and piled of schoolwork, the weight of her weird dreams— there seemed to be a strange sense of calm beneath it all.

Still, reality refused to slow down and accommodate her. Her coursework piled up faster than she could manage, and the exhaustion from sleepless nights began to cling to her like a second skin. Why had she chosen to major in chemistry out of all the other possibilities?

She was more absentminded than usual, her work was sloppier, her focus absolutely shattered. She could feel her resolve slipping when her hands trembled when she took notes, in the frustrated sighs her lab parted let out when she would miscalculate a formula (something unlike her as she was usually good with numbers). Sleep deprivation was catching up to her, and no amount of coffee could fix it.

“How about you take the rest of the day off?”

Minjeong was snapped out of her thoughts by her lab partner’s voice. She blinked, only now realizing how heavy her limbs felt. Without thinking, she nodded, her feet already carrying her away on autopilot.

Before long, she was punching in the code to her apartment. The familiar beeping was a welcome sound, and as she stepped inside, her eyes immediately landed on Jimin—and, of course, Aeri, her third and final roommate.

“Oh? Minjeong?” Jimin raised a brow, looking up from her spot on the couch. “You’re home early. Something wrong?”

Minjeong barely had time to process the concern in Jimin’s voice before she was suddenly in front of her, pressing a hand to her forehead. Aeri, sitting nearby, arched a brow but said nothing.

Minjeong shook her head. “Just tired,” she murmured, her voice lacking its usual energy. She felt the warmth of Jimin’s palm slide from her forehead down to her cheek.

“You’re burning up.”

“Am I?” Minjeong barely reacted, her attention drifting to the TV. On any other day, she might’ve felt flustered at the unexpected touch, but exhaustion weighed her down too much to care.

Breaking News!A group of three to four mutants has been spotted breaking into cars in apartment complexes. If you see any of these individuals, do not engage instead immediately call the police.

Aeri scoffed, crossing her arms. “I’d love to see them try that in our complex.”

Jimin rolled her eyes, dropping her hand from Minjeong’s face. “And what, you’d scare them off just by standing there?”

Aeri smirked, leaning back into the couch. “I think my presence alone would be enough.”

Jimin let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Right. Because criminals are just terrified of you lounging around in sweatpants.”

Aeri gasped, dramatically placing a hand over her heart. “First of all, these are designer sweatpants. Second, I am plenty intimidating.”

“Sure,” Jimin said dryly, turning her attention back to Minjeong, who had been standing there silently. “Okay, seriously, you should lie down. You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Minjeong, who had been zoning out entirely, blinked at Jimin. “Huh?”

Jimin sighed. “Bed. Now.”

Minjeong considered arguing but ultimately let Jimin place a gentle hand on her arm, guiding her toward her room.

Behind them, Aeri called out, “If you die in your sleep, can I have your sweater collection?”

Minjeong lazily raised a hand in what could have been either agreement or dismissal before disappearing into her room.

Jimin turned back to Aeri with an unimpressed look. “Really?”

Aeri shrugged. “What? It’s a nice collection.”

Jimin shook her head with a sigh, plopping back down onto the couch. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you still choose to live with me.”

Jimin didn’t respond, just grabbed a pillow and chucked it at Aeri’s head.

Aeri simply cackled.

Minjeong barely registered Jimin guiding her into her room. The second her body hit the mattress, exhaustion fully took hold, dragging her into unconsciousness.

And then—

She was standing in the middle of an empty street.

The sky above her swirled with dark clouds, a sickly yellow glow bleeding through the cracks. The city was eerily quiet, devoid of life. No cars. No people. No sound—except for the slow, rhythmic echo of footsteps.

Not hers.

She turned, but the street behind her stretched endlessly, the buildings crumbling at the edges. A chill crawled up her spine. Something was wrong.

She stepped forward, only for the pavement beneath her feet to crack. The sound rang out sharply in the silence, and before she could react, black veins spread from the crack like rot, swallowing the ground whole.

Her breath caught in her throat. She tried to move, but her body wouldn’t listen. The decay slithered toward her, devouring everything in its path.

And then she saw it.

A figure stood in the distance, faceless yet terrifyingly familiar. Its presence sent a sharp, unbearable pressure into her skull, like something trying to claw its way into her mind.

It raised a hand.

The world around her collapsed.

…

Minjeong woke with a sharp gasp, her body jerking upright. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her fingers clutching at the sheets as she tried to steady her breathing. Cold sweat clung to her skin, her heart hammering so loudly it almost drowned out the silence.

Wait.

Silence?

Her room was too quiet. There was no faint hum of the TV, no distant chatter from Jimin and Aeri. No Yizhou in the corner.

Slowly, she pushed herself out of bed, her legs unsteady as she stepped into the living room.

Empty.

The couch was slightly indented where Jimin had been sitting earlier, but there was no sign of her or Aeri now. The apartment was still, the only sound coming from her own uneven breathing.

Minjeong swallowed, rubbing her arms as she tried to shake off the remnants of her dream. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t—

Her eyes landed on the small collection of plants near the window.

Jimin’s plants. She took pride in them, always reminding Aeri not to overwater them. Lush green leaves, tiny buds beginning to bloom—

Minjeong stepped closer, reaching out instinctively. The moment her fingers brushed against a leaf, the color bled from it instantly.

Her breath hitched.

Before her eyes, the once-healthy plant began to wither, its leaves curling inward, turning brittle. The stem darkened, shriveling into itself until the entire thing drooped lifelessly.

She yanked her hand back, eyes wide in horror.

A sharp pang of nausea rolled through her stomach, her head suddenly spinning.

What the hell is happening to me?