Night arrived without noise.
No louder crickets. No strong wind. Just darkness taking up space, the way it always did. Even so, Shin realized something was wrong before any sound came.
It was the way Hana was breathing.
She sat near the wall, her back too straight, as if sleeping were a mistake. Ryo remained standing near the door, his hand never far from the knife. No one spoke. Even the younger children seemed to understand that this was not an ordinary night.
Shin closed his eyes for a moment.
Opened them again almost immediately.
Then he heard it.
Not a scream. A dull impact, distant. Like wood breaking.
Ryo moved at once.
— Stay here — he said softly. It was not a request.
He opened the door slowly, peeked outside, then stepped out, closing it behind him without making a sound.
Silence returned.
It didn't last long.
A second sound came, closer. Then another. Now there were voices. They were not from the village. They didn't carry the familiar tone of someone calling another by name. They were short, firm, too clipped.
Shin felt his heart start to race.
Hana stood up.
— Listen — she said, kneeling in front of the children. — Pay attention to what I'm about to say now.
The house shook slightly.
— If something happens… you don't scream. You don't call out. You don't run.
The older brother's eyes went wide.
— Mom—
— Listen — she repeated, firmly. — This is important.
Another sound. A crack. Then a scream, distant, that ended far too quickly.
Hana swallowed hard.
— I'm going to hide you.
She moved fast now, but without panic. She opened the trapdoor beneath the mats and pushed Shin in first.
— Stay here. No matter what you hear.
— And Dad?
— Stay here.
He wanted to protest. He couldn't. The space was small, tight, smelled of damp earth. Hana pushed the middle sibling into another corner, took the youngest to a different hiding place.
Before closing the trapdoor, she looked at Shin.
She smiled.
It wasn't a fake smile.
It was a farewell smile.
The wood closed.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Shin stayed motionless, his hands pressed tight against his chest. His heart felt too loud. He tried to breathe slowly, the way his father had taught him.
Outside, the village began to die.
Rapid footsteps. Shouts now, many of them. The sound of something exploding, making the ground vibrate. Flames lighting the cracks, shadows dancing on the walls.
Strange voices.
Authoritative.
— Clear this side!
— Don't let anyone escape!
Shin understood few words. The tone was enough.
The smell came soon after.
Smoke. Burning wood. Something heavier.
A hard impact struck the house. Something fell. Another scream, very close.
— Mom… — he whispered, without realizing it.
He heard fighting. Objects breaking. A body falling.
Then… silence.
Not the silence of peace.
The silence that comes after something is torn from its place.
Footsteps entered the house.
Heavy.
Far too calm.
Shin held his breath.
The wood above him creaked.
A shadow covered the crack of the trapdoor.
— There's nothing here — said a male voice. Young. Indifferent.
Another replied:
— Check quickly and let's go.
The floor creaked as someone stepped too close.
Shin closed his eyes.
Waited.
Nothing happened.
The footsteps moved away.
The fire kept crackling.
The entire village burned.
And Shin, alone in the dark, still didn't know…
that that night would never again leave him.