Summer was passing by, and along with it, the weather seemed to change too. Not often, but from time to time. Perhaps it was a bother for some, but not for Seo-jun. In fact, he barely even noticed the changes. Living the lifestyle he did, it wasn’t surprising — it was the kind of life one could only dream of.

When Seo-jun opened his eyes, he saw complete darkness. He hummed, realizing it was his cat once again resting on his face. The sound of his raspy voice seemed to alarm her, and she jumped off at once. As soon as he could open his eyes fully, Seo-jun lazily gazed at the window opposite his bed. It was still sunny and hot — sunlight beamed through the white curtains that gently swayed with the breeze drifting in from the shore.

Seo-jun’s lips curled into a lazy smile; he genuinely loved these kinds of mornings — seagulls flying in the distance, their calls echoing through the air. The black cat approached the window and effortlessly jumped onto the wooden frame. She stretched, then lay down in a comfortable position, lazily wiggling her tail.

Seo-jun got up from the bed and stretched. The sudden movement darkened his vision and made his head dizzy — the little quirks of being tall. As he stretched again, he let out a soft groan, fully waking up. Once his sight cleared, he noticed that his phone was flashing. Reaching out, he saw Grandpa on the screen.

“Finally, you woke up — sleeping beauty,” Grandpa’s voice sounded irritated and annoyed.

“Yessir,” Seo-jun sighed, placing the phone on speaker while he got dressed. Being a lazy guy, his choice was simple — summer-green shorts that reached his knees and a black top. His dark, long hair fell across his face, and he made a mental note to trim it after work.

“Also,” Grandpa continued, “the forecast promised rain, so get ready for a storm. Bitragam passed by and asked you to come later to help secure the fishing boats.”

“I’ll stop by the dock, no problem. I just hope that tree won’t cause any damage to the shop. Last time the storm came, it nearly fell.” Seo-jun’s brows furrowed in concern. He loved his grandparents dearly and wouldn’t want anything to harm them — especially Hye-won. For her, raising a baby boy had been like having a second youth. She poured all her love into him, teaching him to talk, to walk. Both Hye-won and Il-sung were on top of the world when they said his name. Seo-jun was their everything.

Remembering his childhood made Seo-jun smile — but when his left hand traced the faint scar beneath his eye, his smile faded. His teenage years hadn’t been as kind.

“I know, boy, I know. But you know how important that tree is to your old hag,” Grandpa sighed.
That tree was the one where his grandparents had carved their names, and later, his own. It was their family tree — in every sense of the word.

“Aight, old man, I’ll be there soon,” he said, hanging up.

He patted Mei, the cat, on his way out. She purred a farewell before leaping out the window. A sudden gust burst into the small apartment, sending the curtains flying apart. It took Seo-jun by surprise — the storm was coming fast.

“I guess the weather’s not in our favor today, huh, Mei?” he muttered, shutting the window. The cat hissed softly, curling up on the bed as if in agreement.
Indeed, the weather changed fast.

As Seo-jun walked down the street, the wind picked up, howling and whipping the branches violently — almost with anger. Rubbish flew chaotically through the air. The clouds swallowed the sun, painting the sky in dark shades of grey. People hurried indoors, afraid of what was coming. The elderly, however, moved slowly — some because they had seen it all before and no longer feared death, others simply because they were too tired to rush.

For a brief moment, Seo-jun regretted not grabbing a hoodie, but he was too lazy to go back. Maybe today’s weather was summer’s official farewell.

The shore district was the most vulnerable. When storms came from the ocean, they came strong. Accidents happened often — people injured, cars crushed beneath fallen trees. Most couldn’t afford insurance. Indeed, storms were feared here. Still, people helped one another; this district was one big family, and no one wanted to see another hurt.

It had already happened once.

Ten years ago, a child drowned in a storm just like this. The weather had shifted too quickly, and the adults were too late to react. Seo-jun had tried to jump in and save him — he was a strong swimmer — but the others had held him back. No one was willing to risk another life.

On his way to the docks, Seo-jun helped his neighbors secure their homes. By the time he arrived — fighting against the growing rain and wind — his flip-flops were slipping uselessly on the wet ground. Not his best choice of footwear.

In front of him, a group of fishermen worked frantically to tie down their nets.

“Seo-jun! Come here!”

Without delay, he climbed aboard. The man shouted instructions over the wind before running off to secure the ropes that held the boat to the dock.

The wind carried the salty scent of rain as Seo-jun worked quickly, coiling the nets and fastening them with thick rope. Each knot was tight and precise — the kind of care that came from years of habit. He secured the bundles to the side hooks, double-checking every tie before the storm rolled in. The boat rocked beneath him, whispering of the chaos to come.

Once the boats were secured, the men moved to protect the fishermen’s station. They shut every window and locked the doors tight.
By then, the storm had grown violent. One by one, the fishermen left, hurrying home to their wives and children.

Seo-jun was soaked to the bone. Water streamed down his hair and face, dripping onto his lips. It was less salty now — mixed with rainwater. Shivering, he took the shortcut through the small forest, trying to call his grandfather, but the signal was dead. His fingers trembled from the cold. He cursed himself for not taking a jacket.

Each step felt heavier than the last. The storm was alive around him — and deep down, a strange unease grew in his chest.

When the thunder roared, it was followed instantly by a flash of lightning — blinding and near. The impact was sudden, soft, yet dangerous in its power.

Seo-jun broke into a run. The shop came into view. He saw his grandparents pulling the last chairs inside, trying to protect their little world from the storm.

“Grandma!” he shouted, waving.

Hye-won turned, smiling with relief. Her heart eased seeing her grandson safe — but in that moment, she should have worried for herself.

No one noticed the lightning strike. It came too fast.
It hit the tree — her tree — splitting it in silence beneath the roar of wind and thunder.

No one heard it crack.
But they should have.

Because no one was ready to shield Hye-won when her tree came falling down