As he drove his car, Jiwoon felt suffocated, dreading the thought of returning to the shallow bungalow he reluctantly called home. He parked the car with a heavy sigh and stepped inside. The hall was cloaked in darkness, giving him a brief moment of solace. The silence was oddly comforting, and for a fleeting second, he felt at peace.
He had just started climbing the stairs when a groggy voice interrupted the stillness. "Why are you late, son?" Startled, Jiwoon turned around and forced a laugh.
"Hey, Dad, when did you return?"
"That's not important now. Sign these papers," his father said, his tone firm. Jiwoon took the documents, his fingers tightening around the pen. He didn't need to read them. He already knew. They were illegal. And questioning his father would be useless. He signed them without a word.
"I'm leaving tomorrow. Be good," his father commanded.
Jiwoon hesitated, then asked quietly, "Dad, can't you stay a little longer? Mom—"
His father cut him off mid-sentence. "I have work to do. Hope you understand that. And your mom knows that too well," he said, his voice rising just enough to emphasize the point. Jiwoon bowed slightly, muttering, "Have a good night." His father responded with only a hum, already turning away.
Jiwoon climbed the stairs, closed the door behind him, and slid down against it, finally letting out a breath he'd been holding in. For once, he felt like he could breathe.
Sometime past midnight, he awoke shivering, pain pulsing through his shoulders. He had dozed off by the door. The curtains flapped gently in the wind. He got up, walked to the window, and shut it. As he looked out, he spotted his father still working. Not wanting to disturb him, Jiwoon made his way quietly to his mother's room.
She was fast asleep. Jiwoon gently took her hand in his and rested his head on it. For the first time in a long while, he felt calm. He didn't even realize when he fell asleep.
When Jiwoon woke again, he felt fingers brushing through his hair. He looked up, startled, to see his mother quickly pulling her hand away. He gently caught it midair and guided it back, silently asking her to continue. She smiled and resumed patting his head.
Moments passed in silence before Jiwoon stood up. "I have to go. I'm getting late for work."
"I made breakfast. Eat before you leave," she said softly. He smiled unknowingly and nodded. After he left, his mother stood by the door, tears shimmering in her eyes. These moments were rare, and she held onto them tightly.
Meanwhile, the early sun lit Hana's apartment in soft gold. She stirred awake, her hand reaching for her phone. A tightness sat in her chest. She read Taeyang's message: he was making progress on his case and would return in two days. A wave of relief washed over her.
At the National Police Agency's office, Hana was reviewing reports when she was called to the briefing room. Jiwoon stood at the front, the air in the room heavy. This was his first official case, and all eyes were on him.
"This isn't just a murder. It's a challenge," Jiwoon said, addressing the team. "The killer is taunting us. Every detail has a purpose. Hana, analyze the substance found at the scene. Everyone else, track all who had access to the dorm in the past forty eight hours. We aren't missing anything."
The team moved quickly. Hana handed Jiwoon a tablet with the victim's information.
"She was brilliant. Top of her class. She filed a report about a break in two months ago. Nothing was stolen, but she was certain someone had been in her room," Hana said.
"That's not a coincidence. Cross reference that report with the dorm's guest logs," Jiwoon instructed.
They headed to the forensics division lab inside the National Police Agency's office. Hana started analyzing the unknown substance while Jiwoon studied crime scene photos.
"It's a paralytic agent. Not lethal but enough to incapacitate. The dosage was precise," Hana observed.
"So we're looking for someone with detailed medical knowledge. They didn't just want to kill. They wanted to control every aspect of the scene," Jiwoon said.
"And they expect us to miss something. But you won't, will you?"
Jiwoon smirked and tossed her a marker. "Not a chance. Let's map out what they overlooked."
They worked in sync, piecing together the killer's strategy. Hours passed in a blur. Jiwoon marked timelines and sketched a crude map of the dorm. Hana compared the molecular composition of the compound used. Their movements were automatic now—passing notes, muttering theories, correcting each other without ego.
In a quiet moment, Hana noticed something odd in the guest logs. "Jiwoon, this person signed in under a different name last month, twice."
Jiwoon scanned the entry. "That's our lead. Let's pull their files."
They traced the name to the university's research lab. Security footage revealed a figure, confident, sneaking into the chemistry wing. Further digging unearthed a connection between the victim and a quiet student known for brilliance and obsession.
In interrogation, Jiwoon's voice was calm, firm. "You were jealous. She had everything you wanted. So you made her your experiment."
The suspect's composure cracked. Under pressure, he confessed.
Back at the National Police Agency's office, Jiwoon and Hana sat together.
"You were brilliant out there," Hana said.
"Couldn't have done it without your lab work. We're a good team," Jiwoon replied.
"The best. But no celebrations until the paperwork is done."
"It's done. So dinner? Your pick," Jiwoon offered.
"Persistent," Hana teased. "Is this really about the case?"
"Does it matter? You need a break. I need company. Let's go."
She agreed. They went to a quiet restaurant tucked away from the city's chaos. Jiwoon pulled out her chair.
"Old-fashioned," Hana remarked.
"Thoughtful," Jiwoon corrected.
Their dinner conversation naturally drifted back to the case.
"The symbols on the wall," Hana mused. "What was the killer trying to say?"
"They wanted attention, but the precision wasn't ego. It was a test. They're pushing boundaries."
"You read people well. It's like you were in their head."
"It's a skill," Jiwoon shrugged. "Especially when leading brilliant minds like yours."
"Flattery doesn't work on me."
"It's not flattery if it's true."
After dinner, Hana insisted she could walk home.
"At this hour? No way. I'm walking with you," Jiwoon said.
"I don't need a bodyguard."
"Not a bodyguard. Just a guy enjoying the night."
The city was alive with neon lights and the hum of nightlife. Jiwoon stayed close, eyes alert.
"I didn't realize Seoul buzzed like this at night," he said.
"The noise comforts people here. How about you?"
"Chaos doesn't bother me. I thrive in it. Makes me feel alive."
"That explains how you handled the case. You seemed in control."
"That's the job. Focus. Adapt. And I had you to keep me grounded."
Hana looked at him, surprised by the sincerity. "Someone had to. Can't let the team leader slip on day one."
"You're better at this than you think," Jiwoon replied.
Outside her building, Jiwoon looked up at the windows.
"Safe and sound. Mission accomplished."
"Thanks. For dinner and the walk."
"Didn't have to. I wanted to. We're a team, Hana."
She smiled gently, and Jiwoon stood still for a moment. His gaze lingered on her, the soft glow of the streetlights casting warmth on her face. A part of him didn't want the night to end.
As Hana disappeared behind her door, Jiwoon exhaled slowly. A bittersweet ache stirred in his chest.
Somewhere between the case, the laughter, and the quiet walk under the city lights, something had changed.
He rested a hand on the rail beside her building's stairs, steadying himself. A new thought crept into his mind, soft, persistent, undeniable.
He was falling for her.
The realization hit him like a tide. Unexpected, overwhelming. He clenched his jaw, trying to shake it off, but the truth had already settled in his heart.
His hands buried deep in his pockets, he turned away slowly, footsteps quiet against the sidewalk, carrying emotions he could no longer ignore.
Inside, Hana leaned against the door, exhausted. But her thoughts drifted to Taeyang. He had always been there, the one who stood by her when no one else did. She picked up her phone and called him. The line rang several times before he finally answered.
"Hana? What's going on?"
"I was worried. You've been so quiet. Are you okay?"
A beat of silence. Then his voice came through, cool, steady, but touched with something deeper. "You don't need to worry. I've got it under control."
"That's reckless, Taeyang. We're supposed to watch each other's backs."
Another pause. When he spoke again, his tone softened slightly, almost reluctant. "I haven't forgotten. How was your day?"
"Intense. But we solved the case."
"I knew you would. You always figure it out."
"Don't distract me with compliments. Just promise me you'll check in more."
"I promise. Get some rest, Hana. You deserve it."
He hung up before she could say more. But Hana stood there, phone still in her hand, staring at nothing. There was a heaviness in his words. A quiet coldness, carefully hidden beneath gentle concern.
Something wasn't right. Not just stress. It was deeper, quieter, like something bracing for impact. She replayed the call again and again in her mind.
Her instincts stirred. Something was wrong with Taeyang.
And now, she couldn't ignore it.