Chapter Text
“Kim Gaon, I love you!”
Every time she confesses, there’s a tiny irrational part of her that hopes Gaon would, instead of offering him that sweet apologetic smile of his, take her unaware and sweep her into a kiss. She’d then mentally shake her head and slap herself, embarrassed at the shamelessness of her desire. Still, it doesn’t stop that scene, or countless others that don’t end with a silent apology, from plaguing her dreams.
She’s gotten used to it, this scene they routinely perform; she’d never get used to seeing Gaon hurt, but she has gotten used to the subsequent genuine desire to cheer Gaon up, confessing to get him to smile again at the expense of her own heart cracking just a little, the flicker of selfishly audacious hope that this time, this time might be different, the inevitable disappointment at the gratitude and apology conveyed in a single smile, so good that it always makes her fall just a little more in love with him, and finally the hint of self-loathing that she’s being selfish again when Gaon is suffering.
Still, this is how they’d managed for years. She doesn’t pretend she isn’t selfish, not to herself at least. She does what she wants — protecting Gaon, becoming a police officer to help Gaon, always staying by Gaon’s side — even though it’s not always what Gaon wants.
What Gaon wants…
...Soohyun has spent all her life trying to figure out.
Sometimes, she thinks she has. He’s good, she knows. Good to the point that it hurts, and good in a way that she isn’t. That’s something she thinks Gaon doesn’t understand about her and doesn’t realize about himself. Her good is a selfish one and stems from her own desperate desire to protect what matters to her and the ideals she stands for. Resolute and uncompromising… and in other words, unforgiving.
Gaon’s good stems from his desire to understand others, of relieving them of their suffering, whether it’s physical or emotional. Gaon’s good lies in his capacity to forgive.
And it’s what Soohyun loves about him the most. She just wishes he would use a little bit of that same capacity for forgiveness on himself.
It’s hypocritical, she knows, that someone like her, with her obstinate, unyielding nature can tell him to let go, let go of his desire for revenge and not become a killer. It is extremely selfish of her, because she simply wants to keep Gaon by her side. She spouts whatever words she thinks she has to to make him waver, to make him stop, which she knows he would, because he’s Kim Gaon, who always puts the pain and feelings of others before his own. And so when he finally does, crumpling against her in tortured, broken sobs, her own heart aches at his suffering, but she can’t deny the more overwhelming sensation of relief.
It’s why, when Gaon looks at her, eyes bright with admiration of the ‘good’ he sees in her, she always feels a pang of guilt. I’m not that great of a police officer, she always tells him, to which he laughs off as her being overly humble. But it’s true. She’s not. Because a police officer should not be biased for or against the people they serve to protect, passing judgment before the facts have presented themselves. But Soohyun has never been one to be that considerate, not like Gaon.
She selfishly doesn’t tell him that.
Sometimes, she catches Gaon watching her out of the corner of her eye with a fond and contemplative expression, and her heart treacherously skips a beat. It has crossed her mind before that perhaps Gaon is simply scared, scared of changing this bond between them, of losing her and this one connection he has to a life worth living. It warms her, but it also sends chills through her all the same.
Her most fervent wish is that Gaon would be a little kinder to himself.
But even though she’s a selfish woman, this is one line she refuses to cross; she will never pressure Gaon before he’s ready. And in the meantime, she can only continue to prove to him that he’s worth being loved and show him why it’d be worth a risk to try for something more. With that resolution reaffirmed, she settles comfortably back into her role as the best friend and Gaon’s pillar of support, patiently waiting for whenever he’s ready.
It’s time like this that she’s content, thinking she’s figured him out.
And then Gaon does something that throws her for a loop again.
Like fall for a man like Kang Yohan.
The first time she hears of Kang Yohan, it’s from a coworker who’d been following the proceedings of a criminal they’d apprehended. “That bastard is done for, if the judge is Kang Yohan,” her colleague declares with a satisfied grin as they take their lunch break one day. “Kang Yohan is not like the others, you know. He rules with an iron fist.” He makes a fist himself for emphasis. “Greatness can only be forged through tragedy, I guess.” Soohyun is curious about the remark and indicates so. “He’s a survivor of the church fire that killed his family and heir to an enormous fortune. A man like that won’t be swayed by those corporate and political scumbags… threats and bribes are useless in front of him. Just you wait. That bastard will get what he deserves. Kang Yohan will make sure of it.”
Soohyun isn’t sure what it is exactly; perhaps it’s the glint of viciousness, something sinister, something more than righteous anger, a momentary glimpse into the dark part of the human heart that shines through her coworker that sends a shudder through her.
At that moment, she decides that this Kang Yohan must be a great man. Great, but the kind of greatness one ought to give a wide berth to, not out of respect per se, but to avoid the quicksand that will invariably bury you if you get too close.
So when Gaon tells her he’s been selected as an associate judge for the People’s Live Court, headed by the great Kang Yohan himself, she feels her stomach drop. Something uncomfortable twists there, and a sense of foreboding washes over her. But she can only take in Gaon’s determined look and feel herself succumbing to some unknown inevitability. That Gaon shows some reservations about the court, about Kang Yohan, doesn’t reassure her as much as she hopes. Something irrevocable has been set into motion.
Relief is what she feels when Gaon hands her the recording acquired via the wiretapper she’d provided him, and the voice that filters through is that of a man.
“Why would a judge need a wiretapper? Do you have a girlfriend who’s cheating on you?” Although she said it as a joke, there was an insecure part of her that clung onto the possibility anxiously. What if? But Gaon, being Gaon, just smiled that amused smile of his, telling her to believe that if it was easier. It quelled her fears a little, and accepting that this was as at ease as she was going to get with this kind of answer, she played along, enjoying their friendly banter as much as she could.
So it’s reassuring when the voice that filters through is that of a man, even if that man is Kang Yohan. “So the lover who was cheating on you that you mentioned before was your chief? What a taste you have...” she remarks flatly to hide the smidgen of happy relief.
Soon, their conversation adopts a more serious tone, and her concerns now turn towards Gaon’s safety once more. “Don’t go around saying that. You might get stabbed,” she only partially jokes when Gaon suggests the man may have fabricated testimony.
Afterwards, when they chase down the reckless and obnoxious driver later identified as Lee Young Min and witness Kang Yohan’s wild rampage first hand, Soohyun can only think of how this monster is currently so dangerously close to Gaon, and how the latter only wants to get closer in search of the truth.
I can’t let him take on this danger, she resolves that night.
She doesn’t notice it when it first starts, Gaon’s descent to the devil’s side.
It has always been the two of them against the world, and even if she doesn’t always know what Gaon is thinking, she prides herself in knowing what he’s feeling.
She knows Gaon sees himself as a coward. Which absolutely baffles her, since her childhood friend is the most recklessly selfless person she knows, always acting first and willing to put himself in harm’s way if it means helping someone else. But she knows Gaon doesn’t see that side of himself, choosing instead to focus on how what he does still isn’t enough. And perhaps, to a degree, that he isn’t enough.
Because while Gaon is headstrong and will do what he believes is right, not unlike herself, what Gaon wants to protect is everyone, whereas Suhyoon has only ever wanted to protect the one. How can any one person ever be enough to protect everyone, when the greatest enemy everyone has, is each other?
What Gaon and others might see as a wavering resolution, an inability to decide, a weakness, she knows to be Gaon’s true strength — his desire to understand at the end of the day is as humbling as it is vexing. It’s her own weakness, of course, and one Gaon ironically mistakes as her strength.
Maybe if she had understood more, she could have averted the oncoming train wreck.
In retrospect, she should have seen it coming. Gaon’s desire — and sometimes borderline obsession — to help others always requires a target. And what bigger target is there than the devil himself?
“I ran into some people not long ago. They all grabbed my hands tightly. They thanked me for the trial and told me they were happy to have found someone they could trust,” Gaon tells her. And at the time, she thinks he simply needs reassurance that what he’s doing is right. And so she gives him exactly that.
“A foul is a foul,” she remarks, because it’s what she believes in at the end of the day, and it’s what she thinks Gaon needs to, and wants to, hear.
And when Gaon just nods a little, offering her a small smile while looking away, “Yes, you’re right,” she relaxes, considering the concern closed.
She should have realized then, that even back then, what Gaon was seeking was no longer a simple reassurance, but an answer… an answer to the enigma that was Kang Yohan.
The first time Soohyun actually meets Kang Yohan face to face is a haze of anxiety and concern over Gaon’s safety, and all thoughts about the man as someone dangerous flies out of her mind.
“Pansa-nim! Is Kim Gaon-pansa safe?” She searches his eyes for an answer before he can respond, but the man is frustratingly inscrutable. All morning since news of the attack broke out, she’s rationalized to herself that Gaon is fine, that he’s likely just indisposed for the time being which is why her calls go answered, that there’d be news of a death if there was one.
Time seems to drag on forever as Kang Yohan studies her in return. “Who are you?” he asks. It suddenly occurs to her how she may appear to him — a total stranger asking for an update on a developing situation. She quickly shoves her badge up to indicate her trustworthiness. Please, just let me know he’s alright.
She repeats the question, and Kang Yohan clearly reads the worry in her gaze. He tells her Gaon is fine, then follows up with “Are you personally acquainted with Kim-pansa? Perhaps… his girlfriend?”
It’s not the first time she’s gotten this question. And it certainly won’t be the last. Although she’s steeled herself and grown accustomed to the response of, “No. I’m his friend,” it still twists at her whenever she has to make that admission. But for once, the usual discomfort is greatly overshadowed by the sense of relief at hearing that Gaon is safe.
She then pivots her attention to figuring out where he is, switching her address of Gaon to casual form now that Kang Yohan knows of their relationship. However, the chief justice is unyielding, telling her, “I’m sorry, but I cannot tell you that”.
This takes her by surprise. “Sorry?” is all she can muster in the face of the guarded response. And it takes her a split second to process that the other is guarding Gaon from her.
“Right now, his safety comes first,” comes the simple explanation. She’s still reeling from the backwardness of the situation, of someone else protecting Gaon from her, when he mentions something about Gaon’s treatment, and Soohyun feels her heart lurch. Gaon’s hurt, is all she can then focus on, and in the throb of desperation, she grasps Kang Yohan’s elbow, demanding to see Gaon.
Only the other’s stern invocation of her title brings her back to awareness, and she mutters a small apology.
“Just find the criminal. Leave Kim-pansa to me,” is all the man says before walking away, leaving her in a bit of a daze and wondering what the hell had just happened. It’s always been her fending others off of Gaon, and now…
...why would a man like Kang Yohan have such a vested interest in Gaon? What does the man want with her friend? The inkling of suspicion revives now that the tidal wave of worry has receded a bit, replaced now by the simmering undercurrent of concern she’s had since Gaon started this new job and assignment.
Still, Kang Yohan isn’t wrong. The criminal needs to be caught. She’s just not sure if the criminal is the only one who does. And if that criminal isn’t Kang Yohan.
When Gaon finally contacts her, and she sees his name pop up on her mobile, she nearly drops the phone in the frenzy of picking it up.
Of course Gaon just laughs it off, reassuring her that he’s fine in that lame humor of his. After a few lines of their typical banter, he says, “Soohyun-ah, I’m fine. I bet you were very worried.” And it’s all she can do not to break down right there. Of course that’s Gaon’s first concern. The torturous hours of the morning come flashing forward, of when she wasn’t sure of Gaon’s life or death, and for a moment she was faced with the very real possibility that her best friend and the love of her life might have been gone … The relief at hearing his voice, and the way he’s asking if she’s okay without asking if she’s okay… the emotions are all a little bit too much for a moment, but she knows she can’t let the silence linger too long lest Gaon worries.
“Where are you now?” she asks, having reined in her emotions. The long pause on the other end of the line piques her curiosity, and she wonders for a moment if Gaon doesn’t know where he is.
When the answer finally filters through, “... Kang Yohan’s house,” she can’t help but explode in shock, startling her coworker.
“What convinced you to trust that bastard and stay there?” she hisses quietly once she’s out of hearing range of potentially unwanted ears.
Gaon, of course, just brushes off her concern by commenting on the security system of the place. She rolls her eyes, knowing he understands the question behind her question. It vexes her to no end that Gaon is taking this all in casually, as if he isn’t currently in the tiger’s den. In fact, he seems to find her response rather amusing, which irks her even more. And then he makes the point of using this as an opportunity to investigate, which raises all of Soohyun’s hairs all at once.
“Gaon-ah, I will look into all of that. So leave it to me. You don’t need to do anything else, alright?” she states a bit desperately, even though she knows it will be to no avail. But Gaon simply reassures her that he’ll be careful, and she can only stand there helplessly as the haunting sensation of inevitability comes bounding forth again.
They spend the next few days tracking down Kang Yohan’s background. The detective turned restaurateur is another point of suspicion against the man.
The unsettling feeling in Soohyun’s stomach has since settled. This is what she’s used to — her and Gaon, together, fighting the unfairness of the world, fighting to correct what’s wrong with the world. They’d get to the bottom of Kang Yohan’s dark dirty secrets eventually, and she can heave a sigh of relief when this is all over and Gaon is back at her side, away from the public eye, away from danger, just the two of them taking on life itself.
“I’m afraid something’s going to happen to you,” Gaon admits to her one day, and her heart sings at the warmth those words bring her. Even though this is Gaon being Gaon, it never fails to comfort her knowing she’s a person Gaon truly cares for. His concern actually motivates her to work with more determination — I need to get to the bottom of this so he’s safe and doesn’t need to worry anymore.
But of course, that’s exactly what doesn’t happen.
She’s not surprised when she wakes up in the hospital one day while tracking down ‘Doctor Safety’; in fact, she anticipated it. She’d seen the feral look on Kang Yohan’s face the day Gaon took Elijah out to meet her. Is he so afraid of his secret getting out? She wonders, feeling sorry for the girl who had to grow up in the captivity of such a man.
Seeing Gaon’s worried face is both a curse and a blessing. A blessing, because she never tires of Gaon looking at her like she’s his everything in this world, that without her, he might fall apart. And a curse, because of those same exact reasons. She doesn’t want Gaon to suffer because of her, and so she tries her best to brush it off.
Then, news of Kang Yohan’s bribing of the witness pops up on TV, and she watches in muted horror at the way Gaon’s face darkens.
“Gaon-ah,” she starts, trying to calm him, because she knows what he’s feeling, and she doesn’t want him to confront that sort of monster—
She spots it. A flicker of something besides rage. Hurt? But how does that make any sense? She blinks again, and the emotion is gone. “Gaon-ah,” she tries again, grasping at the edge of his sleeve which is the farthest she can reach in her position, her heart thumping against her chest in a terrible premonition. But he simply pulls away, unable to look her in the eye.
“I’m sorry, Soohyun-ah,” he apologizes quietly before leaving.
The suspense of what he will do nearly kills her, and she fires off several texts in rapid succession —
Don’t confront him.
I’m fine.
Let’s figure this out together.
Wait for me, please?
But her texts remain unread, and she can only bite her lips from the stress of it all.
The next morning, she receives one simple response —
Don’t worry. Focus on getting better, okay?
“How can I not worry, idiot?” she mumbles under her breath, tossing her phone aside in a huff. Still, the burden in her chest does unload itself somewhat, since whatever rash thing Gaon was planning to do either didn’t get carried through, or didn’t have the kind of terrible outcome she feared.
He visits her every day in the hospital, and they chat about this and that, from silly things like where the apples in the hospital must be sourced from to the serious matters of the court. But whenever Soohyun tries to talk about the bribed witness and how strangely it was all resolved, and just what exactly is it that Kang Yohan is planning, Gaon falls uncharacteristically silent.
At first, she thinks it’s because he doesn’t want to relive the circumstance that led her to her current occupation of the hospital bed, and she lets it be, understanding of his feelings.
But something niggles at her. She tries to bring up the findings she’d collected and test out theoretical narratives based on their understanding of the puzzle that is Kang Yohan, but every time she does, it doesn’t take her more than half a minute to realize she’s having a one-sided conversation. Gaon listens, of course, supplying the anticipated ‘hn’ or ‘maybe’ here and there, but offers nothing more of substance. And in fact, it seems like whenever they have these discussions, his thoughts are elsewhere, as though his heart isn’t in this at all.
Perhaps it is that — that he seems distracted more than anything — that has Soohyun thinking it’s less about not wanting her to get re-involved, and more to do with something else.
“I think I better go ask Kang Yohan in person,” she declares at one point when Gaon is looking particularly far away in thought.
“Hn,” comes the automated response, to which her lips twitch in momentary amusement, but then flatten as she realizes her suspicions are right.
“Gaon-ah,” she calls out softly, placing a hand over his.
“Yes?” Gaon looks up at her, eyes cleared of whatever it was that was distracting him.
“What’s wrong?” she implores, searching his eyes for some sort of answer.
Gaon just gapes at her like a fish for a few moments. He then blinks and lets out that boyish grin of his. “What do you mean?”
Soohyun studies him for any sign of discomfort — Gaon has never been able to lie very well after all, wearing his emotions on his face for the world to read. “You seem distracted,” she points out.
Gaon blinks. “Do I?” His grin just widens, and he scratches his head sheepishly. “Sorry, I guess your voice is so soothing that I fell into a meditative state,” he teases, to which she smacks her lips and his arm.
“Idiot,” she mutters, though unable to help the small twitch of a smile. She then sits back against the pillows, deciding to let Gaon have his way and let the matter drop. She steals a quick glance back at him for signs of relief that his lame diversion tactic worked but is a bit disheartened to see him distracted once more.
She wonders what it is that has him so distracted, and the image of an arrogant smirk and feral gaze flash before her, causing her breath to catch for a second. But why would it be? Why would Gaon be distracted from their discussion of Kang Yohan… by Kang Yohan himself? After all, Gaon had thus far shared with her all of his findings and evaluations of the judge… why would he stop now?
Is there something he cannot tell her? Did Kang Yohan threaten him? That thought causes her hair to bristle, but then she quickly dismisses the idea. Gaon is never one that deals well with threats, instead lashing back tenfold. It’s what would often get him into more trouble than he was, when they were kids. The more the bullies threatened him, the more he dealt back, his eyes ablaze with righteous anger. Gaon’s eyes are too expressive for her not to notice something like that.
No, if Gaon is being threatened over their investigation into Kang Yohan’s past, he’d do something dumb like avoid her entirely. Instead, he seems… at a loss. As if he no longer wants to pursue this truth.
It’s the same look she sees sometimes when she declares her love for him, asking him if he wants to marry her. Most of the time, he just laughs and shakes his head humorously. On some occasions, however, there’s a hesitancy that baits her. Gaon would pause just long enough, gaze at her just seriously enough, that she’d think something would be different this time. Invariably, however, he’d ultimately retreat behind that fond but friendly smile of his, into the safe realm of ‘who knows’ or the playful banter. As if there’s something he wants to say or ask, but is scared to receive an answer to.
And now… she sees that kind of expression as they discuss Kang Yohan.
What are you afraid to learn, Kim Gaon? That we’re wrong, that Kang Yohan isn’t the monster we think he is?
But that doesn’t make any sense. If they’re wrong, then they’re wrong. This would mean there’s a larger conspiracy at play, and while it means the playing field is much larger than they first anticipated, it’s not something so daunting that they can’t overcome. There’s no reason for Gaon to be hesitant. In fact, it’s more likely this would spur the other on.
And Gaon isn’t the kind of person that wishes vilification of anyone. He wouldn’t wish someone to actually be the bad person they seem to be for the sake of being right. If anything, he’d be relieved that—
And suddenly it clicks.
Of course.
How had she been so blind?
“Leave Kim-pansa to me,” the chief justice had told her upon their first meeting.
Soohyun finally understands the dread she’s had since Gaon first told her about his new job.
“I miss you, Yoon Soohyun.”
The admission takes her by surprise, and it’s then that she knows something has happened. Because although Gaon is someone who cannot really hide his emotions, he’s never one to verbally express himself.
So she goes along at his pace, fulfilling her role as the supportive friend. She shamelessly indulges in a little bit of intimacy, getting him to hold onto her as they make their way to the bar. It seems to also cheer Gaon up a bit though, so she settles into his side happily.
After their food has arrived, she figures it’s time to give her friend a little nudge. He tries to dodge again, of course, claiming he only wants to grab a drink to celebrate her discharge from the hospital. But she knows something is eating him up, and thus won’t let him run away this time. “Kim Gaon,” she says assertively, though not unkindly.
Gaon is unable to meet her eyes for a moment. “Today… I just wanted to see you though… I really should just stick to that.” His eyes flicker up briefly to meet hers, and her gaze is soft, but unyielding, and he finally caves.
When Gaon finishes narrating the events of the evening, Soohyun’s mind is racing at two hundred kilometers per hour, trying to make any sense of what he’s told her. Yet the predominant thought that keeps jumping out at her is how it was Kang Yohan that revealed this to him. Kang Yohan, who’s manipulating the court, manipulating the people, and now very possibly, manipulating her best friend.
But she remembers the hesitancy in Gaon’s eyes during her time at the hospital, and realizes she needs to approach this tactfully.
“When I’m investigating, I get suspicious if everything fits too neatly. What is Kang Yohan’s intention? Knowing your past so well, and taking you all the way out there to show you what seems like a magic show he prepared.” She pauses, studying Gaon’s reaction and letting him digest the thought. Gaon is silent, his gaze averted, and she sees the reluctant doubt in his features. She presses on, a little more eagerly, but even more gently. “What if… what if…” Here, she pauses, unsure of how to mince the words here. A beat later, however, she decides there’s no way around it and throws it all out there, “...all of this is done with a certain intention? What if Kang Yohan is trying to shake your resolve and pull you in?” Her heart is pounding a little as she finishes, because she’s a little scared of Gaon’s response, which is a first for her.
She’s never studied him so intensely as she has in that moment, observing Gaon’s uncharacteristically unfathomable expression, the way he takes in all her accusations with an air of defeat that pulls at the pit of her stomach. His usual smile is almost bittersweet, and he responds quietly with, “As expected of you, Yoon Soohyun.”
She tries not to analyze his response too much, deciding to accept his words at face value. Having overcome that uncomfortable hurdle, she follows up with the course of action — something much less contentious — promising him that she will figure it out.
But Gaon rejects her help, feeding her the line that if she becomes involved, it’d be an official investigation, and he can’t trust her superiors. Soohyun wants to argue, that hasn’t really stopped us so far, but Gaon is already cutting her off with that reassuring smile and asking her to give him a little more time.
The sense of dread comes pulsing back to life, and she feels it bottoming out when the other says, “I will go along with Kang Yohan and try to find out more. Okay?”
And in that moment, Soohyun knows she’s lost this battle. And worse, she gets the uncanny feeling that she may have already lost the war. To the devil called Kang Yohan.
So she does the only thing she knows — she brings it all back to what’s familiar — the grief over the loss of his parents, the wrathful anger over the man who took everything away from him… that is an experience that is theirs and theirs alone. This is a sanctuary that Kang Yohan cannot taint. She was the one who was with him at every step of his grief, and the one that helped him hold onto his sanity, his humanity. It’s a bit selfish of her, forcing Gaon to let it out like that, and being the one to comfort him like that, as she always has. But she knows he needs this release, just like she needs the reassurance that he’s still the same boy she’s grown up with and came to love.
This is not a side of Gaon that Kang Yohan will ever get to see, she vows.
Professor Min Jungho is like a father to her. To a young Soohyun and Gaon, Min Jungho was the paragon of justice they all strove for. He’d had more than half a hand in raising the both of them, nurturing them in their careers, and to Gaon especially, playing the role of the father he had lost.
She’d had her initial reservations and to be honest, a bit of shock, at hearing Gaon tell her that it was the professor who had put him up to the task of surveilling Kang Yohan. Although she’s always known the kind of righteous man Min Jungho is, it surprised her a little that he was willing to ask Gaon to carry out such a dangerous task. For the first time ever, she held a little bit of a grudge against the man for putting her friend in that sort of position. Gaon had taken it all in stride, of course, being even a little proud to be capable of serving some use to the standards of justice he aims to uphold. Soohyun didn’t want to smother his eagerness, so she kept her mouth shut for the most part.
Thinking back, on Gaon’s own character, and the dilemma he was placed into, her resentment grows to more than a little. The professor of all people knows what kind of a person Gaon is, and what kind of a monster Kang Yohan is. That he intentionally placed Gaon by the latter’s side… is his sense of justice more important to him than the happiness of the boy he raised like a son?
Even now, as they’re eating dinner to catch up, what comes spewing forth from the professor’s mouth isn't an asking after of their lives, but rather another spiel on justice, rebuke of the devilry the chief justice is up to, the brokenness of the system, and how they need to act. She doesn’t disagree, of course. In fact, she does think he’s right. The current direction of their society is one that’s starting to haunt her every day. But the mention of Kang Yohan has been a sore subject as of late, and Soohyun can almost taste the flare of tension when the man is mentioned.
“I didn’t become a police officer to point a gun at our citizen’s chests,” she states softly, hoping to focus the conversation on the policies being passed and avoid the topic of a certain chief justice. The professor nods and continues on his tirade.
“Police brutality is getting worse. If a drunkard makes a noise, the police batons—”
“But is that really so wrong?” Gaon cuts in testily.
Min Jungho appears shocked at Gaon’s words, and the latter continues, “It’s not right for police officers to get beat up by drunkards every night either. Is that a proper country?”
She feels the tension heightening and places a calming hand on Gaon’s knee. She prays a little that the professor can read the tension and doubt in Gaon’s expression — read it, validate it, and influence it — instead of battling it and potentially alienating him, but the professor is nothing if not uncompromising when it comes to his sense of justice.
Soohyun can only watch helplessly as Min Jungho continues to advance on the Live Court, on Kang Yohan, and Gaon gradually closing off in response.
She thinks back to the events prior to the professor’s arrival:
“But there are people I need to take care of over there too,” Gaoh had replied with a fond smile when she asked him if he was home for good. It didn’t make her happy, of course, to see Kang Yohan included in that sentiment. She chided him gently to take care of himself first, and Gaon brushed it off in that usual joking manner of his. In that moment, as he watered his plants with his back turned towards her, she felt as though he was so far away, despite being only a few feet in front of her. His silhouette had never looked more foreign to her either.
This is your home, Kim Gaon. The home your parents raised you in, where I came over to every day to ensure you were never alone. This is your home, not… She wanted to say, but before she could determine how to convey them properly, they were interrupted by the professor’s arrival.
She tunes back into the present to hear Min Jungho call Gaon the key to all of this, with all the information he’s collected. She wants to jump in, wants to tell the former to lay off, that Gaon can’t possibly betray someone who he thinks of taking care of with that sort of expression...
“Is that a notice?” he asks nonchalantly, but Soohyun can read the reluctance — or rather, almost defiance? — in Gaon’s seemingly expressionless facade.
“It’s a request,” the professor corrects, though the words ring hollow. “And… I’m sorry,” he then follows up with, and a sense of finality washes over her.
She can’t look at Gaon’s expression now.
She’s afraid that if she does, she’ll see the confirmation of her fears.
She’s afraid she’ll see the insurmountable distance between Gaon and them, and she’s afraid she’ll see Kang Yohan’s hand on her best friend’s shoulder.
Soohyun genuinely feels for Kang Elijah, this girl of sixteen who lives in a large lonely mansion with no one but a man like Kang Yohan, a cat, and a maid for company.
She also admits that she wants to learn more about the man that has managed to ensnare Gaon in some grand illusion. She wants to know what his motivations are, what he values, what he is capable of… and she’s ashamed to say that his niece is a good angle into who that man is.
She vows not to ask about Kang Yohan unless Elijah brings him up herself. Soohyun does feel a warmth spread across her chest when seeing the teen smile brightly as they go shopping. She’s always wanted to be a big sister, and she supposes that she may have used Gaon as a stand-in in a way, at least initially.
In the end, the afternoon passes in the blink of an eye, and she’s left with more questions than answers about the enigmatic judge.
The man genuinely cares for Elijah, Soohyun can tell. The flashback to a wild looking Kang Yohan storming into the cafe and threatening them over taking Elijah out without his permission… she feels a twinge of guilt at having immediately written that off as a sinister intent to protect his secrets.
Even though everything about Kang Yohan that passes through Elijah’s lips is nothing short of complaints, what Soohyun sees is a healthy, albeit a bit lonely, teenage girl grumbling about an overbearing parent and nothing more. Even though from Elijah’s own lips, the man is a terrible person, the moment Soohyun hints at how other people might see him in a similar light, the girl shoots her the most menacing glare possible and comments on how the masses are too easily manipulated. At that point, she knows better than to point out that generally, the masses are manipulated into worshipping Kang Yohan instead.
As she listens to Elijah recount the first time Gaon cooked for them, how amazing the food was (has Gaon ever considered reopening his parents’ restaurant?) and how Yohan, the stubborn jerk, refused to acknowledge Gaon’s skills despite wolfing down the entire meal (Yohan’s the biggest hypocrite in the world) the smile abruptly wanes from Soohyun’s face.
She suddenly gets the distinct feeling of being an outsider, listening to the ongoings of a family, Gaon’s family, as if Elijah is his little sister that she’s meeting for the first time and learning about all these fun home secrets… and Kang Yohan is… Kang Yohan is…
Since when has she been the outsider to Gaon’s life?
Since when has Kang Yohan been an insider to Gaon’s life?
Since when has Kang Yohan been a man with embarrassing secrets like not knowing how to tell the maid her cooking was terrible, and so made up some feeble excuse for years, all so her feelings wouldn’t be hurt?
“You really put up with instant meals and take-out all these years just to avoid hurting her feelings?” she asks a little incredulously.
“Well duh,” Elijah replies casually. “It’s too awkward. What else could we do? Telling her I don’t like Korean food was the only way. Although to be fair, I never realized Korean food could taste so good before Gaon made it, so it wasn’t a total lie...”
You could hire a different maid, Soohyun thinks to herself, but thinks it sweet that the thought never even crossed Elijah’s mind. And then another thought occurs to her. “Kang Yohan too? He just… tells her he prefers non-Korean meals?”
Elijah rolls her eyes. “No. Yohan says he has no ‘taste’ and that he only ‘chews and swallows’ food, so she shouldn’t bother. Can you believe how dumb of an excuse he gave? But she believed it, so I guess that’s even dumber.” Elijah shrugs, not really noticing how Soohyun is reeling from trying to process the image of the confident, even arrogant, chief justice stumbling over an excuse like that just to preserve their maid’s feelings.
She tries to reconcile the iron-fisted devil who would watch the world burn with a man like that, and finds herself at a loss.
And for the first time since she felt Gaon growing more distant from her, she gets the sense that she’s acquired a precious insight.
“Soohyun-ah, put the gun down,” Gaon’s steady but worried voice filters through the elevated pounding of her heart through all her senses.
How had it come to this? A part of her wonders. She had been driving Elijah back, and then she saw something. And being her, she just had to step in. She had to jump in with no plan, no real solution except to stop what was happening. Before she knew it, her gun was pointed at that scumbag who hails himself a patriot.
Before she knew it, there was chaos, and Elijah was screaming.
Before she knew it, there was Kim Gaon, asking her if she was alright. And everything was brought back into focus just briefly.
Then, there was Kang Yohan in a murderous rage, ready to kill the man that dared harm his niece.
And before she knew it, there she was, pointing a gun at Kang Yohan, demanding, “That’s enough!”
Kang Yohan.
The devil himself.
The man who’s taking her best friend away from her. The man who’s corrupting everything Gaon had strove for, who’s monopolizing all of Gaon’s good for his own, tainting him. The man, who’s the reason for Gaon’s silent tears and emotional turmoil.
Soohyun doesn’t claim to be good in any capacity; that description is reserved solely for Gaon. Yet never has she experienced such a pulse of hatred for any human being — even Doh Youngchoon — than for the monster before her.
She barely registered Gaon’s stuttered calling of her name.
And now...
For a second, she’s really not sure what will happen — whether Kang Yohan will choke the man to death before she can act, whether she will shoot before he can.
Her hold on her gun is still steadfast, but seeing Gaon stepping in to defend him, seeing Gaon stand by his side, against her …
...something inside her shatters.
It doesn’t matter that Gaon also tells Kang Yohan to stop.
Gaon had chosen to go him .
Gaon had chosen.
Something dark seizes her chest for a moment. Give me a reason to shoot, she silently eggs him on, gaze freezing with an intensity and meeting one that burns in equal reciprocation. Everything she learned about the chief justice this afternoon flies out of her mind, and what’s left is the devil wearing a human skin.
It peripherally occurs to her that the devil actually obeyed her friend’s plea, relinquishing its hold on its victim. But she does not drop the gun, because the threat is very much still real. After all, the very presence of the devil is an abomination itself, and must be eradicated, erased, taken far far away from her best friend—
“Are you pointing the gun at me now?” the devil speaks in a calm but mildly threatening manner. And out of the corner of her eye, she can see Gaon stepping forward in panic.
Suddenly, she can’t take it anymore.
She drops her arm.
She then starts moving numbly on autopilot, arresting the Bamboo Spear scumbag, calling for backup to clean up the rest of these societal trash…
She’s peripherally aware of Kang Yohan carrying Elijah over to his car and driving off, as well as Gaon’s concerned eyes trailing after her.
He wants to call out to her, she knows, can read it all over his face. But she doesn’t make eye contact; she can’t make eye contact. As the darkness starts to recede, a sense of horror overtakes her. What kind of thoughts had she been having? What must Gaon think of her now?
“I didn’t become a police officer to point a gun at our citizen’s chests,” she had declared just a few nights ago. And in the span of a few minutes, she had not only done that, but had that kind of thought — What if, just what if that man no longer existed? Wouldn’t it be a good thing for everyone? As the clarity continues to unfold, a wave of nausea sweeps through her, and she’s choking back a revulsive shudder.
She’d pointed a gun at an unarmed civilian, and someone Gaon cares about.
Who has she become?
“Soohyun-ah,” Gaon tries to call out to her, clearly reaching his limits of giving her space.
She doesn’t deserve it, the kindness and forgiveness in those eyes. She’s a terrible hypocrite. She shouldn’t even be a police officer, and how can she possibly face him, Gaon just go away—
Strong arms wrap around her, and a gentle hand cradles her head to a warm chest. “Shh, it’s okay, Soohyun-ah,” Gaon soothes over the sound of crying, and it takes her a moment to realize it’s coming from herself. “It’s okay. We’ll be okay, Soohyun-ah.”
She’s not sure how long they stand there, Gaon comforting her in a rare reversal of their roles.
Eventually, she does regain her bearings and pulls away with an embarrassed sniff. “I’m fine, Gaon-ah,” she states quietly, glancing about at the ground and too ashamed to meet Gaon’s eyes.
“Hmm, really? Your nose is as red as Rudolph right now,” the other teases in response, causing her to break out a watery chuckle and smack his arm.
“Idiot,” she retorts without any heat. Turning away from him, she dabs her eyes with her sleeve and pats her thighs before pivoting back around. “I think I should go home now,” she states quietly.
“Will you be okay?” Gaon immediately follows up, concern shining in his eyes.
She nods, not trusting herself to speak. “I think I just need a good night’s sleep…” She gestures awkwardly, then reaches up to straighten out some of her hair.
Gaon just nods along slowly. “Okay,” he acquiesces.
Soohyun starts towards her car, then pauses, turning back towards Gaon. “I can drop you off?” she offers.
Gaon blinks. “Ah… that…” He scratches his head uncertainly. “I’m not going home though…” he admits a bit sheepishly.
Soohyun expects the lurch of dread, but she’s a bit surprised at the guilt that follows.
He must be worried, she thinks and tries not to read too deeply into it.
“I know,” she finally responds. “I can drop you off,” she repeats, meeting Gaon’s gaze.
The other’s eyes light up just minutely, and a smile breaks out on his face. “Okay.”
Soohyun tries to swallow the hollowness that accompanies her smile.
Their calls and chats seem normal on the surface, full of their usual silliness, teasing, bantering, and some somber acknowledgement of the state of the world they live in.
But Soohyun can hear the growing uncertainty in Gaon’s voice about the choices they’re making.
“Soohyun-ah… what is justice?” he asks her one day out of the blue, and she’s fixed to recite her usual response when this type of question pops up — she’s a police officer after all, so people always want to know — when something holds her back. It’s the way the other sounds so lost, conflicted, defeated, that has the words dying in her throat.
Even though he’s not in front of her, she can see his face now — tired, frustrated… hurt.
“I don’t know…” she responds instead, because for the first time, she suddenly realizes that she really doesn’t. She used to think she did. The unfairness and injustice of what happened to Gaon’s family is what drove her to become a police officer after all. But now…
“Is it really such an injustice to force something to actually change for the better for once?”
Soohyun doesn’t know what to say to that. After a few moments, she asks softly, “If we become monsters to fight monsters… when will the cycle end?”
The other end of the line is silent for so long, she has to pull her phone away to check that it’s still connected. “Gaon-ah?” she prompts gently.
“...I just want the people I care about to be happy for once… is that so wrong?” comes the vulnerable admission, his voice small.
It breaks her heart.
“Gaon-ah—” she starts, but halts, because what can she say? What kind of hypocrite would she be if she tells him he is? After all, her own justice probably measures short of Gaon’s happiness. Despite trying to convince herself that she would never place her own personal feelings ahead of justice, she’s always doubted. She hopes she’ll never have to test that resolve, because she suspects that if it really comes down to it, she’d… She shakes her head.
Just because Kang Yohan numbers among the people Gaon cares about, does she really have the heart to tell him that’s wrong?
She stops. It’s always been Gaon’s happiness.
“It’s not wrong, Gaon-ah,” she reassures softly.
A stretch of silence, and Soohyun briefly wonders if Gaon has muted himself. Then, a barely audible “Hn,” through which she can hear the stifled release.
Thus, it doesn’t really surprise her later, when Gaon asks, “What if, I mean really, what if, I happened to do something bad... what would you think?” She pretends to not understand him, not see the sobriety behind the question despite his usual grin. But then he laughs and asks again, this time more seriously.
She pretends to be a bit miffed at the question and responds with what she hopes she can do, even if she’s doubted for a long time that it is what she would.
She tries not to think about the implications behind such a question.
“You suddenly came to see me at the police agency and asked me how I would feel if you were to do something bad. Kang Yohan appeared when we were apprehending Bamboo Spear. Are you, by chance, going around and doing something weird?” She finally lets it all out after.
She thinks back to the way Kang Yohan appeared, like their savior in descent, and observed the way Gaon lit up at the man’s appearance.
Just what are you guys up to?
Gaon stares at her innocently. “Does it seem that way?” he asks innocently as well. A little too innocently. She tries to decipher him a little more, but she finds her ability to do so a bit lacking as of late.
“No, it’s just… I’m just jealous, is all. Jealous,” she admits in a rush, though quickly clarifies, “It’s strange to see my close friend suddenly hanging around the ultra-rich.” Just what are you doing with Kang Yohan? What is he doing with you? She wants to ask, but cannot. “It feels like you’re going to a different world,” she continues, not quite wanting to meet Gaon’s eyes and see his expression, but braving herself just enough to steal a small glance at the end.
“I see,” comes Gaon’s untelling response.
She thinks that’ll be the end of that and lets the awkward silence hang around a bit.
But then, Gaon offers, “He’s not that well-off. Once you get to know him, he doesn’t have that much, really.” He says it with a slightly sympathetic but fond expression, and Soohyun finds herself wondering what Kang Yohan has done to deserve that.
“I’m much better off. I have good memories with my mom and dad. I have this pretty house that I care for… and…” Gaon explains, then lets his eyes linger on hers. And suddenly her heart is racing as she waits with bated breath for his next words — And I have you . But Gaon, being Gaon, dodges the serious moment by ending it with cheeky grin, “... I even have my own fanclub. OpposeDaOn.”
Soohyun scoffs in disbelief. That jerk, she thinks, baiting her like that. Still, she understands, and a warmth flutters over her.
She decides that’s a good note to leave on. It’s fine, she thinks to herself. Gaon has more than enough heart for her and the Kangs. He’s just that kind of person. She shouldn’t have worried so much. Whatever it is that’s going on between him and Kang Yohan, she and Gaon will always have their own special relationship, something that the man cannot interfere with.
With that comforting thought, she takes her leave.
She can feel the bubbling happiness radiating from Gaon the moment she sees him.
They’ve only been friends for two decades after all.
So she asks, curious as to what’s got him in such a good mood. Gaon, the mischievous child-in-an-adult’s-body, just replies that it’s because he’s with her, of course.
She rolls her eyes, thinking he’s missed his true calling as an idol.
As they eat, she catches him staring outside towards the sky with the brightest smile on his face, and a little smile of her own escapes her.
Something good must have happened in the Kang household, she thinks to herself. After all, Gaon’s brightest happiness is always selflessly reserved for others.
The realization is bittersweet, as she’s genuinely happy that Gaon is happy, but she had always thought that it would only be she who could put that kind of expression on his face.
She never wanted to play the role of the jealous best friend.
If this is how she’s going to be like when Gaon gains a new friend, what’s she going to be like if and when he actually gets into a relationship?
She tries to picture it again - the kind of woman that would fit seamlessly by his side. It’s not the first time she’s tried to imagine something like that, and she always can’t. The woman’s figure invariably turns into her own, and she has to slap herself out of foolish daydreams.
But in a momentary flash, the faceless woman is gone, replaced instead by the lithe silhouette of Kang Yohan at Gaon’s side, a firm hand at the small of the latter’s back. Gaon laughs at something the man whispers in his ear, ever so intimately, and she feels her heart stutter to a stop as those confident eyes then sneak a glance back towards her, holding her own shocked ones, as if to say, I’ve got him now, Yoon Soohyun.
Her hand stills, and she sees the reflection of her own face, white with abrupt clarity, in the glass of water she is holding inches away from her lips.
No.
“Soohyun-ah?” Gaon’s concerned voice has her breaking out of her temporary nightmare.
“Huh?” She responds, then quickly sets down her glass and grabs her chopsticks. “Eat up, eat up,” she says quickly in distraction, tossing food onto Gaon’s plate to hide the wild thumping of her heart.
There’s no way.
“Gaon-ah, I will bring that woman Cha Kyunghee to court with my own hands ,” she had promised him. She’d promised him…
...so why did Gaon go and do such a thing?
Seeing Kang Yohan near Cha Kyunghee’s dead body is unsurprising. But never for a second did it even occur to her that the man kneeling over the minister’s body would be her best friend.
“S-Soohyun-ah,” Gaon calls out, face white.
Soohyun’s mind is blank.
Her gun is still pointing at Gaon, and she’s trying desperately to make any sense of the situation. “Gaon… what are you doing right now?” she stumbles out, still in shock. “Why are you here?” Tell me you have nothing to do with this. Tell me this isn’t what it looks like! She’s screaming inside, because this is her worst nightmare realized.
But Gaon doesn’t appear panicked, isn’t jumping to deny that this isn’t what it looks like. Instead, he looks somber, like he’s trying to console her, “Soohyun-ah—” he starts, but her mind is screaming that this is wrong, no, why is Gaon looking at her like he feels bad for her?
“I asked you what you are doing here!” Tell me this is all a mistake! That you just coincidentally found her like this. That you had absolutely nothing to do with this!
But Gaon is silent. It’s Kang Yohan who finally breaks the suspense. “She committed suicide,” he discloses. We just found the body when we came here to interrogate her. Are you going to arrest us?” the man asks blithely, as though asking her for her dinner order.
She’s still in shock. Woori, the word echoes tauntingly around her. Us. Are you going to arrest us.
“Yoon Soohyun,” Kang Yohan calls out again.
She’s still staring at Gaon, wide-eyed in disbelief, willing him to say something, anything, to dispel her of this nightmare scenario. But Gaon just returns her shocked gaze with one of shame, uncertainty, and apology.
And in that moment, she knows she’s failed.
She gradually lowers her gun, and with it, everything she strove for in becoming a police officer.
Gaon sees it — the way her spirit crumbles — and he starts, “Soohyun-ah—”
“Leave,” she demands brokenly, shutting her eyes because she cannot bear to look at Gaon right now, cannot bear to think of how she has failed — failed Gaon, failed herself, failed the people she swore to serve and protect. Then, she steels her resolve with the remnants of her shattered pride, and stares Gaon straight in the eye. “I told you to leave.”
She’s numb as Kang Yohan shoves Gaon to leave, and she’s left to stare at the body and the blood illuminated in the dark office.
She calms herself enough to call it in and slowly makes her way over to the scene. And then, she sees it — the bloody handprint on the table, Gaon’s handprint, from when he stood up.
Gaon, you stupid… she thinks. And in that moment, a sobering realization crashes over her.
I need to protect Gaon. If they see this, they will think—
And in equal ferocity, her own words from not a minute back come bounding forth, “I will preserve the crime scene.”
She curses, slamming the table with the handkerchief she’d taken out, ready to wipe it clean. What am I doing? She asks herself, horrified and disgusted at the choice she is about to make. Tears of frustration now build up, and she curses Gaon, curses Kang Yohan, curses the whole fucking system that’s taken good people like Gaon and twisted him into a… whatever it is he is now. The entirety of their fucked up world that forces her to choose between her morals and the person she loves.
She breathes harshly, willing the tears at bay because she shouldn’t further contaminate the scene. And she almost laughs at that spare thought.
Morals? What morals? What’s the use of morals if it means she can’t keep the person she loves safe and happy? Justice? What is the use of justice if it only brings pain?
And with that resolve, she bites her lips and chokes back an angry sob, shoving the handkerchief violently over the blood stain. It scrubs away appallingly easily, just like her so-called morals and notion of justice.
A frustrating sob finally escapes her as she feels her heart shattering and everything she has stood for dissolving in that one act.
Gaon’s face of horror as he sees her, Kang Yohan taking him away…
The point of no return.
She slaps Gaon the next day when he chases after her.
It’s a first. Never in a million years did she think she would ever be the one to raise a hand against Gaon. It hurts, both her hand and her heart.
Gaon’s shocked face nearly breaks her, but the anger and hurt is still coursing through her, and she seizes him by the lapels. “Do you have any idea what I did because of you? I got rid of evidence! The evidence…” She has always prided herself in being an upstanding police officer. Even if she’s not a great one, and has biases, she always thought she would never resort to those kinds of dirty underhanded tactics that… And the worst part is, she knows she’d do it again. For Gaon. “How could you do such a terrible thing? How could you?” she screams at him, wondering how had things gone so wrong. How had her childhood friend who was so good end up hovering over a dead body?
“I’m sorry, Soohyun-ah… I’m sorry,” Gaon apologizes with deep shame, a tear of self-loathing tricking down his face.
Her heart aches even as it burns in anger. She wants to reassure him that it’s all okay, wipe the tear from his face and hug him. She thinks again how is it that someone as good as her best friend could have ended up like that, because looking at Gaon’s tortured expression now, his guilt… he’s still the same Gaon she grew up with and loves. So why …
A deluge of coldness washes over her.
“Just what on earth have you been doing with Kang Yohan?” she demands, the image of the devil judge popping into mind — the devil judge, with his hand at the small of Gaon’s back, guiding him away, away from her.
But Gaon is silent even as his expressions betray him. I can’t tell you, he says.
She is sobbing now. “Never,” she starts brokenly, having to rein in her voice just enough to continue, “Never ever appear in front of me again, Kim Gaon.” As the words escape her, so do the last few pieces holding together her broken heart.
Drained, it’s all she can do to walk away, knowing that those mournful eyes of her best friend would haunt her till the day she dies.
She confronts Kang Yohan.
In retrospect, she’s not sure what she was hoping out of it. One does not easily make deals with the devil, especially if it’s with no cards in hand.
But what else could she do?
She starts with a threat, “Quit now. If you don’t quit now, I will arrest you with my own hands.” With what evidence, she doesn’t yet know. In what circumstance, she has no clue either. But she has to do something.
But Kang Yohan, the ever confident bastard, just replies, “Do as you please,” and starts to drive off.
In a spur of desperation, Soohyun latches onto the car and resorts to begging instead. “Please leave Gaon out of this,” she pleads, stamping down the last embers of her pride and facing the man that has taken everything from her. “I’m begging you. Please don’t force Gaon to waver. Please.”
Kang Yohan studies her with an inscrutable expression, but for a moment, she swears she sees a shadow of uncertainty in that normally steadfast gaze. And for a split second, she thinks he might actually cave in. But then, he simply says, “Remove your hands.” She shakes her head. “I said, remove your hands,” he repeats a bit more tensely, and Soohyun has no choice but to comply. Her eyes continue to search for some semblance of a soul in that hard gaze, but Kang Yohan’s eyes are a bottomless abyss, and she can only let her tears fall silently as she finally lets it all go.
Kang Yohan.
The man who took Gaon away from her.
If she is to bring him down, then she has to learn his darkest secrets, his Achilles’ heel.
So she searches. She searches every clue possible during every spare minute she has, tracking down anyone who had any connection to the fire, trying to see who can give her the something she needs.
Jung Joseph.
The last piece to the puzzle, and one she hopes can actually tell her what the picture represents.
She’s really managed to thicken her skin, going around and pestering people for any hint of the man. But it’s better that she keeps herself busy than dwelling on what Gaon might be doing right now, in the company of Kang Yohan. He’s called her numerous times since, but she’s been adamant in not picking up.
This is fine.
She can’t face Gaon, but she can still save him.
Once she deconstructs the illusion of Kang Yohan, she’ll be able to bring Gaon back to her side.
She just hopes it's not too late.
When she picks up a call from Kang Yohan, of all people, his labored breath coming in heavy over the line, it takes her a second to register that it even is Kang Yohan.
“What is this about?” she asks matter-of-factly, baffled, because what reason at all could that man have for calling her?
“Kim Gaon is in danger right now. Find him.” comes the uneasy sentence, punctuated with short breaths that seems to indicate the man is injured.
“What?” is all she can respond with, her heart stopping at the words of ‘Gaon’ and ‘danger’.
“Hyeongsan-Dong Slum. Right now,” the man heaves out more than says.
Soohyun doesn’t really have time to process what has happened to the man to make him sound like that, to make him resort to calling her rather than solve everything himself.
Gaon is in trouble, she thinks and speeds up her car around as soon as the location pulls up on the navigation.
The car ride back is awkward.
Gaon tries to speak as if nothing has happened between them, but Soohyun is determined to remain standoffish, although she suspects she’s doing rather poorly at that, her concern softening the edges around her cold tone.
“But… how did you know to go there?” Gaon suddenly asks when another awkward silence hits.
Kang Yohan’s labored breaths over the line suddenly spring to mind, and it occurs to her something terrible may have happened to the man. Yet she can’t… It’s extremely selfish of her, but she can’t… not when she just got Gaon back from danger. “No I just… I just…” she starts, grasping for a reasoning that might make any logical sense. “I just heard it on the police radio,” she finishes, relieved at finding a rational excuse.
Gaon seems to accept her answer, and she lets out a mental sigh of relief.
A pang of guilt strikes her, knowing Gaon trusts her and that she’s betraying that trust by not letting him know of what might be a critical situation with someone he cares about, someone he might even... But Soohyun is tired, and Soohyun is selfish. She doesn’t want Gaon running back to that man, into whatever danger that man has gotten himself into.
Gaon will hate her if he finds out, but Soohyun finds in that moment that she doesn’t care. Not if it means him being safe.
It still doesn’t stop the guilt from eating her up from the inside though.
She steals a glance over at Gaon and thinks begrudgingly, Kang Yohan... You better be safe.
“I’m sorry, Soohyun-ah,” Gaon says to her as she’s wrapping his torso.
She halts for a couple of seconds, deciding if she’s ready to forgive him or not. Unable to, she responds with, “...what for?” even though she already knows.
“For showing you this side of myself,” Gaon admits, then sighs, clearly gathering the resolve to speak on this matter. “When Cha Kyunghee died.”
Soohyun is not that strong. Seeing how the shame and guilt is haunting him, she caves in. “You don’t need to say that,” she responds, even though she can’t put a hundred percent of her genuine feelings into it yet. “I’m not that great of a police officer anyway.”
Gaon shifts, and she knows he’s readying himself to admit something else to her. “I know Kang Yohan’s methods aren’t right, and that it’s a crime for a judge to do such a thing. But I can’t bear it,” he confesses. Soohyun studies him for a moment, the conflict on his face, trying to understand. “If I didn’t do this at least, I’d go out of my mind.” She remains silent, letting him finish. “I don’t even deserve to be by your side. I’ve only ever shown you this kind of a pathetic side ever since we were young. And yet shamelessly, because I thought I couldn’t live without you, because I thought I’d actually die...”
There it is.
The self-loathing, the infuriating self-deprecation that Gaon always subjects himself to, and what always pulls at her heartstrings as she watches. “What foolish talk,” she finally declares. “I really can’t stand it. Until when do I have to listen to this nonsense?” Years of frustration are piling up now.
“Soohyun-ah—” Gaon tries to cut in, but Soohyun isn’t having it.
“Do you really not know? I don’t care about what you deserve or don’t. Right or wrong, I don’t know what’s happening to the world. Please,” she pauses, swallowing the lump that’s beginning to form in her throat. “Just please stop throwing yourself into danger.” Stop following Kang Yohan into hell. “That’s all I need, Gaon-ah,” she pleads in a wavering voice. “I just need you. Gaon-ah.”
Gaon looks down at her hand in his, running his thumb over the back of her hand. And as she’s searching his eyes for a response, he suddenly leans forward and brings her head in for a kiss.
Although, rather than a kiss, it’s more a simple meeting of the lips. For a long moment, her mind is frozen, because she’s dreamt of this moment for so long, she’s having trouble determining if this isn’t another figment of her imagination now polluting reality.
Her gaze flickers, taking in Gaon’s long lashes — she’d never realized how long they were — and the tear that escapes them. And like a trance, she finally feels herself giving in until he pulls away at last, and she finds herself staring into those deep warm eyes.
And suddenly, the reality of what just happened crashes down on her. She gasps, immediately springing away. Making some excuse to leave, which she can barely hear over the hammering of her own heart, she all but jumps up from the bed and dashes out of there despite Gaon’s protests.
The cool air outside helps sober her, but she continues her brisk pace to her car and drives away as soon as the ignition is on.
When she manages to drive several blocks away, she rounds the corner of a park and pulls to a stop. Killing the engine, she grasps the steering wheel and thumps her head against the rim.
What just happened? She wonders in utter confusion. Why had she run out of there like a maniac?
She relives that moment where Gaon pulls her in for the kiss, and she slaps her face in embarrassment before thunking her head against the steering wheel once more.
This was everything she’d dreamed of since middle school — Gaon taking her hand, Gaon kissing her, Gaon admitting he only never tried anything because he thought he didn’t deserve her…
…so why, instead of pure elation, does it feel like her heart is breaking into a million pieces?
Why did Gaon’s eyes look so sorrowful when they kissed?
Why did Gaon’s eyes have to reflect hurt at the mention of Kang Yohan?
Why did Gaon suddenly hold no hesitation towards her?
She laughs.
She laughs until she cries.
It’s not fair, she thinks.