- [402X401] Wall
Originally, units 401 and 402 were connected as one spacious home. The owner of the villa, Jang Seongwoo, had the wall between the two living rooms removed for convenience while he lived there temporarily. When he moved out after the apartment construction was completed, the wall was restored. Naturally, the hastily added wall wasn’t sturdy—thinner and less soundproof than the others. That’s why the rent for these two units was the cheapest. Just cheap enough to endure the noise from next door.
Bang!
But waking up to loud noises every Saturday morning wasn’t something to endure cheerfully.
“Are you crazy?!”
Bang! Bang!
Dongha jolted up from bed, shouting. As if responding to his voice, the hammering continued. The vibrations from the flimsy wall shook his entire body. Grumbling, Dongha rushed to the living room. The wall trembled so violently it almost seemed visible. Of course, there was no soundproofing. That’s why Dongha, the resident of 401, had fought so often with Jiseok from 402. And when he finally grabbed Jiseok by the collar, the superintendent, Yiwoo, rushed up and waved their lease agreements in their faces. Both leases included a special clause: they were fully aware of the poor soundproofing and promised not to cause noise-related issues. If they didn’t like it, they could move out anytime. The hands gripping each other’s collars loosened naturally, but the knots in their hearts didn’t.
“What the hell are you doing?! Are you out of your mind?!”
“What? Out of my mind? No, just a minute! Can’t I even hammer a nail in my own place?!”
With a wall so thin that raising their voices slightly made conversation possible, it was no wonder they didn’t get along. Neither of them had the patience or delicacy to tolerate each other’s living noises. Of course, the other’s noise always seemed like the loudest sound in the world.
But after months of clashing, they had gradually learned caution, and recently, they had been getting along decently. At least for the past month—until Jiseok started hammering nails into this wall.
“Hey!”
Thud. Thud. This time, the sound was a little softer. Dongha couldn’t tell how many nails Jiseok was driving in, but he could sense where they were being hammered from the vibrations on his side of the wall. Having finally fallen asleep after a sleepless night, Dongha’s already frayed nerves snapped. Rage and irritation surged through him.
Crazy bastard. You’re hammering nails in a rented place? No, that’s not the point—why the hell are you doing this to this shoddy wall right now?
“Hey!”
Bang! Bang! Instead of a reply, only the sound of hammering continued. Dongha’s blood boiled.
He had just fallen asleep after clutching his crumpled semester grades, getting dumped by his boyfriend, and dropping the bottle of liquor he’d finally bought at the front door. He’d been tormented by nightmares all night, accumulating stress, only to be jolted awake by the relentless hammering.
Damn it. Ever since I moved here, nothing’s gone right. From the first day, when he fought with his neighbor almost daily, his grades had plummeted. Complaining to his boyfriend every weekend had strained their relationship. Even the variety shows he watched to relieve stress were no longer fun because Jiseok would pick fights over the slightest noise. Of course, Dongha refused to admit that all of this was his own fault for choosing this place to pocket half the rent his family sent as allowance. Right now, on the verge of exploding, he blamed it all on bad luck—on having the wrong neighbor. The resentment and yesterday’s stress swirled in his sleep-deprived mind, and he directed all his negativity toward the hammering on the other side of the wall.
It’s all because of that bastard. Everything. All of it.
Even after the hammering stopped, Dongha’s rage didn’t subside. He yanked open a small cabinet, rummaging through it. There had to be some tools here. And a hammer. His bloodshot eyes locked onto the hammer in his grip. Just one more hit. Dare you. He clenched the hammer handle and marched toward the wall. In the cramped space, it only took a few steps to reach it.
Huff, huff. He waited silently. One. Two. Three. Through the silence, Dongha’s sharp ears caught a faint murmur from the other side.
“Ah. I hammered this wrong. I’ll have to do it again.”
Dongha’s forehead pulsed with veins. His eyes reddened further. Four. Five. Six.
“Maybe a little lower?”
Seven. Eight. Nine… Bang!
Before he could count to ten, the hammering resumed. Dongha swung his hammer with all his might. The sound wasn’t a bang—it was a thud. Followed by the crumbling of the wall. The force of Jiseok’s hammering and Dongha’s strike had coincidentally aligned perfectly.
“What the…”
Jiseok, unable to hide his shock, trailed off. Though his voice was low, it reached Dongha’s ears clearly—not as a muffled vibration, but as distinct words. Thanks to the hole now gaping at waist height, where the wall had crumbled. Only then did Dongha snap back to reality. Shit. That was all he could say. He stared blankly at the hammer in his hand, the anger and drowsiness vanishing with the sound of the collapsing wall. Panic set in. What now? What do I do? I’ve lost it. What the hell is this? His mind raced with incoherent thoughts.
Just then, a head suddenly popped through the hole. A thin strand of hair, disheveled from rubbing against the broken wall, was quickly shaken off as the head looked up at Dongha.
“A hammer?”
Jiseok, his head poking through the hole, muttered in disbelief. Dongha looked down at the hammer in his own hand.
“Ah, no, it’s not—”
“Are you crazy?”
“Huh?”
“Are you out of your mind, Yun Dongha?”
Dongha flinched at the aggressive tone, unable to retort as usual. He could only slink his hand behind his back, hiding the hammer.
“Well, I got permission from the superintendent to hammer nails. Did you get permission to break the wall?”
Jiseok’s words left Dongha speechless, his mouth sealed shut. Jiseok stared at Dongha’s flushed face before suddenly disappearing from the hole. Dongha’s mind raced—repair costs, eviction, his family finding out—all kinds of thoughts flashed through his head. Panicked, he set down the hammer and leaned forward, poking his head through the hole.
“W-Wait! Jiseok! Just a second!”
Jiseok, who had just come back to grab his phone, flinched at the head suddenly popping out of the wall. Dongha’s usually neatly styled, wavy hair was wildly tousled from sleep, making him look even more disheveled. Recognizing the messy hair as Dongha’s, Jiseok raised one eyebrow sharply.
“What?”
“Uh, um, well…”
Dongha’s round eyes, filled with panic, continued to stammer. Jiseok turned away, lifting his phone to eye level.
“I’ll call the superintendent first.”
“No! Please, don’t tell him!”
Jiseok frowned at Dongha’s desperate plea. He had been told to inform Dongha in advance, but he’d started hammering without warning, just to stress him out. Still, breaking the wall was beyond reason. And with the two units now connected like this, not reporting it to the superintendent seemed impossible. Jiseok guessed Dongha was afraid of being evicted, but he didn’t feel like cutting him any slack. He’d never liked Dongha—hot-tempered, impossible to reason with, and always a nuisance. He had no intention of doing as Dongha asked.
Ignoring Dongha’s pleading gaze, Jiseok looked back at his phone screen. Tap. Tap. He scrolled through his contacts and found “Superintendent Jang Yiwoo.” Just as he was about to press call, a hand suddenly grabbed his arm.
“Ahh!”
Jiseok flinched and tried to pull away, but Dongha’s hand gripped him tightly. Somehow, Dongha had squeezed through the narrow hole and was now half inside Jiseok’s unit, clinging to his arm.
“Please! Jiseok, I messed up! Just this once, please overlook it!”
Jiseok sighed at the desperate expression. His irritation melted slightly, replaced by a mischievous thought. A smirk escaped him.
“Why?”
“Huh?”
“Why should I overlook it?”
Dongha blinked in confusion at Jiseok’s question. His grip on Jiseok’s arm loosened slightly, then tightened again.
“Uh, well, I—I’ll save up for the repairs! I’ll fix it secretly! I have nowhere else to go, and if I get kicked out, I’m really screwed. If my family finds out… I mean… I’ll do chores for you! Cooking, laundry, cleaning—anything! Okay?”
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
