One evening.

Heading home on time without working any overtime, I was a bit surprised when I got to the train platform.

It was unusually packed, way more crowded than normal.

Sure, it was rush hour, but normally I could get on the train without any trouble.

Thinking that, I boarded one of the rear cars—a spot I don't usually take, but it looked a little less crowded.

I couldn't get a seat, but I managed to grab hold of a handrail, and the train left right on schedule.

I pulled out my smartphone to kill time.

Looking up slightly, I noticed a woman's legs right behind my phone screen.

To be exact, the legs belonged to a woman sitting directly in front of me, visible just over the top of my phone.

They were gorgeous legs—long, pale, and smooth. She was wearing a short, tight pencil skirt, and there was a mole on her inner thigh.

It's amazing how a single tiny black dot can make someone look so much sexier. Naturally, after catching sight of such young, beautiful legs, it was only human to want to see the rest of her.

I casually shifted my gaze upward.

She had long, straight black hair and a slim, striking build like a model. She was the kind of drop-dead gorgeous woman anyone would call a beauty.

The only strange thing was what she was wearing—a plain women's business suit, the kind job seekers usually wear. But it wasn't job-hunting season... Had she been at a mid-career interview? I found myself idly speculating.

(If I were the interviewer, I'd hire her on the spot,)

I let my mind wander into that little fantasy.

The train pulled into the next station.

She turned slightly and looked out the window.

In that instant, her eyes darted over, locking onto me with an intense glare.

Crap... we made direct eye contact. It was deeply awkward.

I quickly looked away, staring back down at my smartphone.

I feigned total absorption in my screen, trying to radiate an vibe of "I definitely wasn't staring at your thighs."

That was close, I thought, trying to calm my racing heart. But just then—

She did something strange.

She crossed her legs, rested her fingers against her chin, and started blatantly staring straight at me in a stylized pose. She stared so unabashedly that at first I wondered if she was looking at an ad or a monitor behind me, but no—she was without a doubt staring right at me. On top of that, she broke into a smile and held that deliberate pose, looking for all the world like a model posing for a photo.

(No way... Could a girl really act like this and stare down some middle-aged guy just because our eyes accidentally met? On a train, no less?)

I was on the verge of panicking. At the same time, I realized this was someone you under no circumstances should make eye contact with, so I desperately kept up the act of reading my phone.

(What is her problem? Is she trying to confront me? Like, 'What are you looking at?' Sure, I glanced at her thighs, but it's not like I was ogling her or groping her. Anyone would look if something beautiful was right in front of them.)

While I cooked up these excuses in my head, she stayed in the exact same pose, smiling and staring directly at me. What on earth was going on? A nervous sweat began to break out all over me.

Eventually, the train finally pulled into my stop. Honestly, I was so relieved.

I put my phone away and pushed my way through the crowd to get off the train, taking extra care not to make eye contact with her.

Then, to my shock, she suddenly stood up and started shoving her way through the passengers to get off the car too.

Was this her stop too? No. She had stood up the second she saw me getting off.

She was following me...

I passed through the ticket gates and entered the shopping street, but she kept trailing a short distance behind.

I couldn't turn around now, but I knew for certain I was being tailed.

A sense of dread washed over me. At this rate, she was definitely going to follow me all the way home.

It's embarrassing to admit, but for the first time in my life, I understood how terrifying a stalker could be.

If it were a young woman being stalked by a man, that would make sense. But...

Why was an ordinary middle-aged guy like me being stalked by a woman—and a model-tier beauty, at that? It made no sense whatsoever.

Either way, going straight home felt like a terrible idea.

I had a thought: I'd head to a friend's apartment nearby and wait her out.

I quickly sent my friend a message on LINE.

Luckily, he replied right away and said it was fine for me to come over.

I felt a slight sense of relief. No time to waste. I picked up my pace toward my friend's place.

...

I let myself into Room 203 of his apartment building.

Once inside, I stood peering through the peephole for a while.

...Sure enough, she showed up. And she was walking straight toward Room 203.

Then, even though she couldn't possibly see me, she stared right back into the peephole.

Our faces were inches apart, separated only by a thin sheet of metal.

Without panicking, I quietly stepped backward, taking care not to make a sound.

I didn't tell my friend what was happening; I just asked if I could crash there for a little while.

"Want me to go grab us something to drink?" my friend offered.

"No, no, don't worry about it. It's better if we don't go outside right now."

After that brief exchange, he made some coffee, and I finally managed to calm down.

...I killed about two hours at his place, then cautiously checked outside.

It seemed she was finally gone.

I thanked my friend and finally headed back to my own home.

...

Back home, I ate dinner, took a shower, and was relaxing over a beer when...

I started getting worried about my friend.

That woman... gorgeous, but clearly out of her mind... What if she mistook my friend for me...

...and tried to play some twisted prank on him? If so, I'd feel terrible for dragging him into this. At the very least, I should warn him about her so he'd be on guard.

I called his phone, but he didn't answer.

A terrible premonition took hold of me. I jumped on my bicycle and raced over to his apartment.

...His apartment building was engulfed in flames.

The police and firefighters were already on the scene fighting the blaze, but...

A huge crowd of onlookers choked the street, keeping me from getting any closer.

I overheard a couple of people in the crowd talking.

"They're saying it's arson. The suspect was a woman. Spread fuel all over the first floor and set herself on fire, too."

I stood there, paralyzed with horror... There was no doubt about it. It had to be her.

"She... she was looking for someone to die with her!"

...The next day, it was confirmed that many people, including my friend, had perished in the fire.

"How could this have happened... Is this my fault...?"

I was completely at a loss.