Two days later, the both of them knocked on the door of Ji-young's study, entering when she answered to invite them in.
"It's been quiet," she began as they took their seats. "No second release, no new headlines. Our team has managed to contain the noise around my husband's medical records, and Choi Seungcheol hasn't made another public move since May 9th." She paused. "His silence for this past month is a pleasant surprise, but I wouldn't count on it lasting. Which is why I want to move while we have it."
She opened her dossier. "From everything you've given me, I have a case. Seventeen charges across Vienna and Seoul, some considerably stronger than others." Her gaze moved between them. "Before I take you through them, I first want to ask: how do you intend to approach this?"
In his chair, Do-hyun remained quiet, making no move to reply. The events of two days ago were clearly still raw on him, evident from his posture now: slightly back, not quite meeting his mother's eyes, his cedar scent minimal, as if careful not to take up too much space in the room. Instead, it was Jaemin who spoke up, answering for both of them.
"We will return to Seoul," he said in a voice soft but decided. "We won't let him win again." He looked up at Ji-young, gaze steady. "What do we need to know?"
Ji-young glanced down at the page open in front of her. "I've prepared a summary of the charges," she said. "I'll take you through the key items. Stop me if anything is unclear."
She moved through the charges efficiently, an expert moving through familiar terrain. Seventeen counts. Vienna and Seoul. A decade's worth of damage laid out in clean, declarative lines. Most of it Jaemin knew, but some of it he hadn't even known had had a name.
Until now. There was something strange about hearing events he had lived through named this way: stripped of their noise and fear, and framed instead in cold, legal terms.
The bouquet at the Gala: confirmed anti-suppressant compound, toxicology report intact.
The venue lockout: too simultaneous to be coincidence, obstruction of business.
The rehearsal hall trespass. The sponsor withdrawals. The media campaigns.
Ji-young's eyes moved steadily down the page as she recited from her dossier, but then paused and came up to meet Jaemin's.
"The Commands incident in the SPS rehearsal hall," she said. "Multiple witnesses. Several orchestra members identified it immediately as a Command. Medical evidence of the resulting neurochemical crisis exists through Dr. Lee Jisoo's clinic.
"This charge, however, will require delving into the Vienna assault. Firstly, because Choi Seungcheol's entire justification for the use of Commands will hinge on the bond that exists between the both of you, and then because we will have to prove that the bond in question was only possible because of his use of Commands back then; coercion, rather than consent. This will require your testimony.
"However, cementing the Vienna assault will establish a pattern: This was not an isolated loss of control, but a repeated and deliberate mechanism which he has employed on you." She paused, watching Jaemin. "Are you okay to proceed with this approach?"
Jaemin swallowed. "Yes."
Beside Jaemin, Do-hyun remained still, but a thread of tension edged through the cedar scent. Jaemin reached for him before he could think about it twice, giving the alpha's fingers a quick squeeze behind the cover of the desk.
"This also reframes Do-hyun's civil suit," Ji-young continued. "Instead of an assault, the court will see the lawful physical prevention of an ongoing criminal act against a non-consenting third party." She turned directly to her son then. "I am not concerned about that suit."
At her words, Do-hyun nodded, then looked away again. Ji-young's gaze rested on him for a beat longer before she turned back to the page.
"Regarding Kang Han-sol's medical records, the acquisition and the disclosure are separately chargeable. We have confirmed Yoon Hana's role in the acquisition. What we are still building is the chain of instruction back to Choi Seungcheol as the directing party. That chain is what we need before we file."
She met Do-hyun's gaze, which had turned to her, and answered the question in his eyes before he voiced it.
"It won't take any longer than two weeks. Earlier, if my team comes back with the necessary documentation. We'll make sure it's out before he releases the second packet, although from how he's been withholding it, it appears to be his last point of leverage. If and when he does, we'll be ready."
Do-hyun's silence indicated his acceptance, but Jaemin leaned forward anxiously. "But if he does release it…"
Ji-young folded her hands on the desk. "Let me be precise about this. What he has is real, and in the wrong hands they could indeed cause difficulty. But he has significantly inflated the consequence of what these documents actually prove."
She looked directly at Jaemin and said, not unkindly, "The threat he delivered to you — that their release would result in my imprisonment — is not accurate. It would result in questions. I am prepared for questions." She paused, then added, "I have been prepared for some time. This is not your battle to fight."
She waited for Jaemin's acknowledgment before continuing.
"About The Conductor's Oath…" She picked up her pen. "I want to be honest with you. It is the one charge that should be most straightforward, because Choi Seungcheol is still performing the piece internationally under his name, so evidence is technically public and ongoing, but it is in truth the most complicated to prosecute.
"Your manuscripts are gone. The witnesses from that period, such as the Academy tribunal, were aligned against you and found in his favour. I can pursue it, but I won't pretend it won't be difficult." She paused again. "How do you want to move forward with this? We can pursue it, but our grounds for this charge are thin."
For the first time since they'd entered, Do-hyun spoke up. "There's a blog post," he said, voice quiet. "I found it months ago, when…" A flash of discomfort crossed his face, but was quickly tamped down, "when Jaemin first joined the SPS."
"A blog post?"
Do-hyun nodded. "An old one, several years back. It had the manuscript, with Jaemin's name on it. It looked like early notes for the piece." He turned to Jaemin. "This was when I found out about your— when I was doing research on the rumours about you in Vienna."
Beneath the table, his warm hand lifted to cover Jaemin's.
Ji-young tapped her pen on her lips. "Do we know whose blog it is?" When the both of them shook their heads, she jotted something down. "No matter. Send me the link, and I'll have my team on it."
Jaemin stared at the desk, bewildered. He had burned everything the night he left Vienna. His books, his notes, his drafts… every staff page that had his handwriting on it should've been destroyed. He could still remember the smell of it all dissolving into ash.
Whatever was on that blog should not exist.
He didn't say this aloud. There was nothing useful in it yet, no name to attach to it, no explanation that resolved cleanly.
"In the event that my team is unable to trace the source in time," Ji-young continued, "there is one more avenue worth considering for this particular charge."
"Which is?"
"A musicological analysis. We employ an expert to compare the compositional voice in The Conductor's Oath against any of Choi Seungcheol's other works, and then against anything demonstrably yours. But it would require a verified example of your own recent original work." Ji-young addressed Jaemin. "I don't want to pressure you on this, but I thought you should know that this is an option."
Jaemin was quiet, thinking. The piece he'd been composing was almost complete. It had been coming together quickly in the last two days, with Do-hyun's quiet, watchful presence by the window, the air between them still vulnerable, but healing.
"I have something," he said finally. "There's a piece I've been working on since we arrived here." He looked up at Ji-young. "It isn't finished yet. But it will be. I think… it was always going to be performed. I think I knew that from the beginning."
Ji-young gave him a small smile. "I see."
"If it helps the case, I'll finish it." Jaemin took a deep breath. "Then I'll find a stage for it, and I'll conduct it myself."
Ji-young stayed quiet for a moment before jotting something down. "If it can be publicly performed and attributed before the case goes to trial," she said, "the comparative analysis becomes substantially stronger testimony. It would help."
"I know," Jaemin said. "I'll do it."
As he said it, something settled in his chest, like a key finding its lock. But just as they were rising, Ji-young spoke again.
"One more thing," she said to Do-hyun. "The night of May 9th."
Do-hyun turned back to her warily.
"You said you arrived at the crosswalk before Jaemin reached the car." Her voice remained carefully level. "How did you know where he was going?"
The alpha hesitated, remembering. "I received a call from an unregistered number. A warning about…" He shook his head, then started again. "A woman told me that Choi Seungcheol was going to be meeting Jaemin at the intersection of Gangnam-daero and Teheran-ro at 8:00 PM to take him away, and then hung up."
"Did she say anything else?"
"No, that was it. I didn't pursue it, because there was less than ten minutes left for me to get there." He turned to his mother, confusion growing. "Who do you think it was?"
Ji-young didn't respond immediately, but flipped several pages back to make a small, precise circle around something on the page.
"When you're back in Seoul, I'd like you to see if you can locate Yoon Hana."
"The woman who's linked to the medical leak?"
Ji-young's head tilted in a small nod. "I'll have my team send you what we have on her. She appears to be connected with several of the attacks, but we're having some difficulty reaching her through the usual channels. I want to speak with her."
"Do you think she's the one who made the call?" Jaemin asked.
"I think," Ji-young said carefully, "that it's a hypothesis worth pursuing. We don't yet know who exactly has been helping Choi Seungcheol. But if someone in his circle made that call… that changes things considerably. Find Yoon Hana, and we'll know.
"In the meantime," she closed her dossier and looked straight at Jaemin, "work on finishing your piece."