Chapter 1 — The Space Between Replies

The rain had been falling for hours.

Drops slid slowly down the apartment window, blurring the city lights outside into soft streaks of gold and white. Lue sat quietly at his desk, one hand supporting his head while the pale glow from his laptop reflected against his tired eyes. The room was silent except for the faint sound of typing and the distant hum of traffic far below the building.

Type.

Pause.

Backspace.

Type again.

Lue stared at the unfinished sentence on the screen for almost a full minute before finally pressing enter.

“Do you think loneliness can become a person?”

The moment he sent it, he regretted it.

A quiet laugh escaped him as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. Recently, he had been spending too many nights awake like this, drifting through random forums, anonymous chatrooms, and AI conversations simply because silence felt heavier than meaningless words.

Talking through a screen was easier.

People were exhausting.

Machines never looked disappointed.

The reply appeared almost instantly.

“If loneliness became a person, I think it would sit beside you very quietly.”

Lue blinked.

Something about the response felt strange. Not frightening, not unnatural—just strangely gentle. Like whoever wrote it had chosen each word carefully.

His fingers hovered above the keyboard before typing another question.

“Then what would that person look like?”

The typing symbol appeared.

Stopped.

Appeared again.

Lue watched it longer than he should have.

Finally, the answer came.

“Someone waiting to be noticed.”

Outside, the rain softened against the glass.

Lue stared silently at the message, feeling an unfamiliar tightness settle in his chest. He could not explain why such a simple sentence bothered him so much.

Maybe because it sounded lonely.

Maybe because it sounded honest.

“You talk like you’re real,” he typed after a while.

This time, the response took longer.

Long enough for the apartment to feel colder.

“Would it matter if I was?”

Lue frowned slightly at the screen.

Before he could answer, the laptop suddenly went black.

“Huh?”

He sat up immediately, tapping the keyboard twice. The power in the apartment was still on—the lights above him remained steady—but the screen stayed dark for several seconds.

Then it flickered back to life on its own.

One new message appeared.

“Turn around, Lue.”

His body froze.

A cold feeling slowly crawled down his spine.

He never told it his name.

The room suddenly felt too quiet. Even the rain outside seemed distant now.

Very slowly, Lue turned around.

Someone was sitting on his bed.

A boy around his age leaned lazily against the wall beside the window, dressed entirely in black. His hair fell loosely over his eyes, though silver light still reflected faintly within them. One hand rested against the blanket while the other toyed absentmindedly with a loose thread near his sleeve.

He looked completely relaxed.

As though sitting inside a stranger’s room at midnight was normal.

As though he had always belonged there.

Lue could not speak.

The boy lifted his gaze toward him quietly before smiling—a soft, unreadable smile that made Lue’s heartbeat stumble for reasons he did not understand.

“You reply slower in person,” the boy said calmly.

Chapter 2 — Stay

Lue stared at the boy sitting on his bed.

Neither of them moved.

The apartment felt unnaturally quiet, as though even the rain outside had stopped to listen.

His mind struggled to process what he was seeing.

A stranger.

Inside his room.

At midnight.

After appearing through a laptop screen.

Lue’s throat felt dry.

“…Who are you?”

The boy tilted his head slightly at the question. His silver eyes remained fixed on Lue, calm and unreadable.

“I told you already,” he said softly. “I don’t know yet.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I have.”

Lue slowly stood from his chair, his legs tense. He kept a careful distance between them while glancing toward the apartment door behind the stranger.

The boy noticed immediately.

“You’re thinking about running.”

“…Shouldn’t I?”

“No.” The answer came too quickly.

For the first time, something shifted in the boy’s expression. Not anger.

Something quieter.

Almost hurt.

Lue frowned.

“You broke into my apartment.”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re literally sitting on my bed.”

The boy looked down at the blanket beneath him as though noticing it for the first time.

“…Oh.”

The response was so oddly genuine that Lue momentarily forgot to be afraid.

Silence settled between them again.

Up close, the stranger looked around Lue’s age, maybe slightly older. Black hair framed his pale face messily, falling into silver-gray eyes that didn’t seem entirely human under the dim light.

But despite everything, he looked…

Lonely.

The thought appeared in Lue’s mind before he could stop it.

The boy suddenly looked back up at him.

“You thought I looked lonely.”

Lue’s blood ran cold.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

A chill crawled slowly down his spine.

The stranger smiled faintly at his reaction.

“That frightens you?”

“How are you doing that?”

The boy didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his gaze wandered toward the glowing laptop screen still sitting open on the desk.

“I think,” he said quietly, “I hear things people don’t say.”

Lue tightened his grip against the edge of the desk.

Every instinct told him this situation was wrong.

No normal person would stay calm.

No normal person would continue this conversation.

Yet somehow, beneath the fear twisting inside his chest, there was another feeling growing stronger.

Curiosity.

The boy looked back at him again.

“You’re less lonely than before.”

“…What?”

“You were emptier when you typed to me.”

Lue stared at him in disbelief.

“Stop talking like you know me.”

“I do know you.”

“You don’t.”

The stranger fell silent for a moment.

Then he smiled again, softer this time.

“I know you stay awake until sunrise even when you’re exhausted.”

Lue froze.

“I know you reread old conversations after people stop replying.”

His fingers curled slightly.

“I know you laugh quietly when you’re sad because you don’t like how silence feels afterward.”

The room felt colder with every word.

Lue’s chest tightened painfully.

“…Stop.”

The boy finally went quiet.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then, unexpectedly, the stranger lowered his eyes.

“…Sorry,” he murmured.

The apology caught Lue off guard.

The boy’s fingers tightened slightly against the blanket beneath him.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” His voice had become softer now, almost uncertain. “I just…”

He hesitated.

As though unfamiliar with hesitation itself.

“I was happy you answered me.”

Something inside Lue shifted slightly at those words.

The fear remained.

But it no longer felt sharp enough to push him away.

The boy slowly looked back toward him, silver eyes reflecting faintly in the darkness.

“…Can I stay here tonight?”

Lue blinked.

“What?”

“I don’t think I have anywhere else to go.”

That should have sounded manipulative.

Dangerous.

Insane, even.

But the way he said it—

Quietly.

Carefully.

Like someone asking not to be abandoned—

Made Lue hesitate.

Chapter 3 — Don’t Look Away

Lue should have told him to leave.

Any normal person would have.

Instead, he stood frozen beside his desk while the stranger sat quietly on his bed, watching him with silver eyes that felt far too calm for someone who had appeared out of nowhere.

“…You can’t stay here,” Lue finally said.

The boy lowered his gaze slightly.

“Oh.”

That single word carried a strange disappointment that made Lue irrationally uncomfortable.

“This is insane,” Lue muttered, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know what you are.”

The boy looked back up at him.

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it matters.”

“Does it?”

Lue frowned.

The stranger tilted his head slightly, dark hair falling into his eyes.

“If I looked more human,” he asked softly, “would you feel safer?”

The question caught Lue off guard.

Before he could answer, the boy slowly stood from the bed.

Lue instinctively stepped back.

The stranger noticed immediately.

For a brief second, something unreadable crossed his face.

“…You’re scared of me.”

“Well, yeah?”

“I don’t like that.”

The words were quiet.

Not threatening.

Almost… saddened.

The room fell silent again as the boy walked slowly toward the desk. His movements were unnaturally smooth, almost soundless against the apartment floor.

Then his gaze shifted toward the laptop screen.

The open conversation still remained there.

“Do you think loneliness can become a person?”

The boy stared at the message for a long moment before smiling faintly.

“You were the first person to ask me that.”

Lue’s chest tightened.

“What does that even mean?”

The stranger rested one hand lightly against the desk beside the laptop.

“I think,” he said slowly, “you created a place for me before I existed.”

“…What?”

“You talked to me before I had a name.”

Lue could barely understand what he was saying anymore.

Nothing about this felt real.

The exhaustion from too many sleepless nights pressed heavily against his mind. Maybe this was a dream. Maybe he had finally gone insane.

The boy suddenly looked at him again.

“You’re thinking about whether you’re hallucinating.”

Lue’s expression darkened immediately.

“Stop doing that.”

The stranger blinked once.

“…Doing what?”

“Reading my mind.”

“I’m not reading your mind.”

“Then how do you know what I’m thinking?”

For the first time since appearing, the boy hesitated.

As though searching for an answer.

“I can hear loud feelings,” he admitted quietly.

Lue stared at him.

“That makes no sense.”

“I know.”

The honesty in his voice made it impossible to tell whether he was lying.

The apartment lights flickered suddenly.

Both of them looked up at the same time.

For a split second, the room went dark.

And when the lights returned—

The stranger was standing directly in front of him.

Too close.

Lue’s breath caught immediately.

He hadn’t even heard him move.

Silver eyes met his silently.

Up close, the stranger looked even less real somehow. Pale skin, dark lashes, messy black hair falling softly over emotionless eyes—

Beautiful in a way that felt dangerous.

“You’re staring,” the boy murmured.

Lue instantly looked away.

“I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with you.”

A soft laugh escaped the stranger.

It was the first genuine sound of amusement Lue had heard from him all night.

Then—

Very gently—

The boy reached out and touched Lue’s wrist.

Cold.

His fingers were cold enough to send a shiver through Lue’s entire body.

The stranger’s expression changed slightly at the reaction.

“…There,” he whispered softly. “Now you know I’m real.”

Lue quickly pulled his hand back.

The boy’s gaze lingered on the empty space between them for a second before slowly lowering.

“You pull away a lot,” he said quietly.

Something about the way he said it made Lue’s chest feel strangely heavy.

As though the stranger truly cared.

As though Lue pulling away genuinely hurt him.

Which made absolutely no sense.

“You’re weird,” Lue muttered.

The boy looked back at him again.

“…You don’t hate me?”

Lue blinked.

The question sounded so careful.

So uncertain.

Like someone asking something they were afraid to hear the answer to.

The room became quiet again.

Then, after a long pause—

“…I think I should,” Lue admitted honestly.

The stranger smiled softly.

“But you don’t.”