Pale sunlight slipped through the half-drawn curtains, painting soft lines across the wooden floor. The apartment was unusually still, save for the faint hiss of a kettle somewhere beyond the bedroom door.
Kim Nam Shin stirred beneath the blanket, blinking against the light. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the room.
Him again
"You're sure you awake?" Woo Jin-ho's voice carried a concern.
She sat up, rubbing her temples.
"Barely."
"I made coffee. Take your time."
Then his went outside the room to make breakfast for her
She stepped into the living room a few minutes later. Jin-ho was already buttoning the sleeves of a clean shirt, a mug resting on the kitchen counter beside him.
He offered it with a small smile.
"Strong. I figured you'd need it."
She accepted it with both hands.
"Thank you."
"I'm making breakfast," he said. "There's a fresh towel in the bathroom."
He paused before opening a wardrobe.
"And... I found something that should fit."
He handed her a neatly folded sweatshirt and a pair of comfortable joggers.
"They're new. Never wore them."
She looked at the clothes, then back at him.
"I'll return them."
"You don't have to."
With that, he disappeared into the kitchen.
Warm water helped clear the fog from her head.
When she emerged nearly twenty minutes later, her damp hair falling over her shoulders, the apartment was filled with the aroma of butter and toasted bread.
"Almost done," Jin-ho called from the kitchen.
"I'll wait."
Left alone, curiosity slowly got the better of her.
His room was exactly how she'd imagined organized, almost meticulously so. Every book stood perfectly aligned. Files were stacked neatly on the desk. Nothing seemed out of place.
Too perfect.
Her eyes wandered toward a corner beside the wardrobe.
A large black garbage bag rested there, tightly wrapped with several layers of plastic tape.
Odd.
It looked unusually heavy.
She hesitated.
Maybe it was just old winter court.
Or things waiting to be thrown away.
For a brief second, an uneasy feeling settled in her chest.
Don't be ridiculous.
Everyone had things they hadn't gotten around to discarding.
She quietly stepped away.
"Breakfast's ready," Jin-ho called.
The strange feeling lingered for only a moment before she pushed it aside.
They ate by the window overlooking the waking city.
Eggs.
Toast.
Fresh fruit.
Nothing extravagant.
Yet somehow it felt peaceful.
"So..." Nam Shin broke the silence, avoiding his eyes. "...about last night."
Jin-ho looked up, clearly amused.
"What about it?"
"I don't exactly remember."
"Really?"
She narrowed her eyes.
"Don't make that face."
"What face?"
"The one that says you're enjoying this."
He chuckled, taking another sip of coffee.
"You called me."
"I remember that."
"You insisted I come pick you up."
"...That sounds like me."
"You nearly fell asleep in the elevator."
She groaned, covering her face.
"Please tell me I didn't embarrass myself."
"Oh, you did."
Her eyes widened.
"I did?"
"You apologized at least twelve times."
"Twelve?"
"And thanked the taxi driver after we got out of the car."
"There wasn't a taxi."
"I know."
She stared at him in horror.
He laughed.
"I'm kidding."
She grabbed a napkin and threw it at him.
"You're impossible."
His smile softened.
"You were exhausted, Shin-ah."
"That's all."
"You fell asleep almost immediately after we got here."
Relief washed across her face.
"...Thank you."
He simply nodded.
An hour later, they left the apartment together.
"I'll drive you home," he said.
"You really don't have to."
"I know."
"But I want to."
The city was already alive.
People hurried across intersections.
Street vendors opened their stalls.
Radio hosts chatted softly between songs as traffic crawled through downtown.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
"You should take a few days off."
Nam Shin looked out the window.
"I can't."
"You've barely slept."
"I'll be fine."
"You always say that."
She smiled faintly.
"Maybe one day you'll believe me."
"I hope that day never comes."
Traffic slowed to a complete stop.
Rows of vehicles stretched endlessly ahead.
Nam Shin absentmindedly watched the buildings outside.
Movement.
Several police cars.
Yellow tape.
People gathering beneath a high-rise apartment complex.
An ambulance.
On one of the giant digital billboards facing the street, breaking news interrupted the advertisements.
Another victim.
Her fingers tightened around the seatbelt.
The screen flashed only briefly before changing again.
The traffic began moving.
She looked away.
Enough.
She couldn't keep carrying every tragedy on her shoulders.
Not today.
Her apartment building finally came into view.
Jin-ho pulled over near the entrance.
"We're here."
She unfastened her seatbelt.
"...Would you like to come in?"
He glanced at his watch.
"I wish I could."
"But?"
"I've got something I need to take care of."
His answer came politely, almost too quickly.
She nodded.
"Another time, then."
"I'll hold you to that."
She stepped out of the car.
He waited until she reached the entrance before driving away.
Inside her apartment, silence greeted her once again.
She changed into comfortable clothes and tied her hair into a loose ponytail.
Everything finally felt normal.
Until
A single image flashed across her mind.
Black plastic.
Layer after layer of tape.
The heavy bag in the corner of Jin-ho's bedroom.
Her breathing caught.
"No..."
She froze.
Then another memory surfaced.
Not the bag.
The coat.
A dark coat.
Folded carelessly beside it.
Her heart began pounding.
Without thinking, she rushed toward her phone.
Hands trembling, she opened the folder she'd promised herself to delete weeks ago.
The CCTV still from the first murder.
The elevator.
The blurred figure.
She zoomed in.
Again.
And again.
The grainy image sharpened just enough.
A long charcoal overcoat.
The stitching near the cuff.
A tiny tear beside the pocket.
Exactly the same.
Her blood ran cold.
"No..."
She whispered the word to the empty apartment.
Outside, another police siren echoed somewhere across the city.
Her phone slipped slightly in her trembling hands.
Was it just a coincidence?
Or had she unknowingly walked into the home of the man everyone had been searching for?
The answer refused to come.
Only the silence remained.
And somewhere across the city...
someone was already choosing the next victim.