The scream tore through the air, then vanished into the wind.
Both the mohawk and jacket gangsters froze, their grins vanishing, head turning toward the sound.
Seojin stood in the middle of the aisle. They bent down, slowly.
Their fingers curled around the handle of the metal bat on the floor. The faint clang as it lifted echoed across the compartment.
They straightened, the bat hung from their hand, blood and dust streaking its surface.
The jacket gangster swallowed in nervousness. The mohawk gangster's grip tightened on the metal rod.
Seojin raised their head. The cracked mask caught the flicker of light, splitting their reflection into two halves.
Their gaze found the two gangsters.
Somewhere deep inside, fear still tried to twitch.
Seojin stepped on it until it stopped moving.
The air in the compartment seemed to shrink.
…
"...I will kill you."
Kangwoo's fingers twitched.
The cold against his cheek reminded him he was still alive.
For a long moment, he couldn't move. The world tilted in and out of blur, shattered glass above, flickering light, the iron taste of blood in his mouth.
He coughed once, blood catching at his throat, then slowly lifted his head.
Then, through the haze, he found his metal-bat being held.
Seojin stood there, back turned against Kangwoo, the bat's tip touching the floor.
Kangwoo's gaze followed the trail of dust and shadow, to Seojin's shoulders.
And he smiled.
…
The train howled through the dark.
Wind screamed through the broken window, flinging cold air and dust into the carriage.
Seojin stood still, the bat hung loose at their side, its metal tip touching the floor.
Blood dripped from their chin, trailing down the cracked edge of their mask.
One drop fell, striking the floor with a faint tick.
The mohawk gangster shifted first. His breathing came rough and uneven.
The jacket gangster didn't move, his eyes were instead locked on Seojin, like a man watching a bomb about to explode.
The light above flickered.
When it came back, Seojin's head had tilted slightly upward, and in the half-shadow, their eyes looked hollow.
They inhaled… then exhaled…
It was as if the train's rhythm obeyed his breathing.
The mohawk lifted his metal rod and stepped forward.
Seojin began to approach too, scraping the bat faintly against the floor with a harsh metallic rasp.
Everything folded into silence.
Seojin lifted the metal bat from their side in a single, clean arc. The silver caught the flicker of the lights, reflecting it in flashes as it cut through the air.
The mohawk gangster reacted on instinct. His arms snapped up, metal rod crossing over his head.
CLANG!