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Following the stabbing incident in the rooftop, Lee Chaeha was rushed to the emergency room. He fell into coma due to the internal bleeding and Joo Taeseon visited everyday to take care of him, hoping he would wake up soon.
"Please, wake up... we've solved the case." was what Joo Taeseon said, begging him to wake up, eyes-swollen and tear-ridden.
"Chaeha, I brought your favorite ice cream. Wake up now before it melts."
"Chaeha, if you don't wake up, I'm going to be mad at you."
Chaeha wanted to, he really did. But his injury was so severe that his body won't listen to reason. All he could do was lay there, helplessly listening to Taeseon and all his begging. For all his life, he had been trying to chase the truth, and now that he caught up, his body remained paralyzed, tubes connected in various parts of his body. When Joo Taeseon wasn't around, he had no one. All he heard was the faint beeping of the monitor beside his bed, and the faint noises from outside his room.
On the third day, sounds started to get muffled. The voice he once heard so loudly from the man he loves slowly started to fade away. He tried to fight it, but he knew his body was giving up.
Until one night, he heard commotion. He heard Taeseon shouting, his voice cracking. "Save him! Do everything you can!"
What's happening?
He remained unconscious, yet he heard everything. He heard Taeseon's voice fading, being dragged out of the room where he stayed. Doctors and nurses shocked his body...
He knew he was dying.
No... This can't be. I still have a lot to say. I still have a lot to do.... I can't die like this!
Chaeha tried to fight it, begging his own body to jerk, to respond to the defibrillator. A desperate surge of willpower tore through his soul.
His body jerked from the defibrillator, but he cannot feel anything.
Fight it.
Breathe!
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Until there was nothing. He heard long ringing, a flat and unbroken tone that swallowed the noises around him.
…
“Time of death: 9:15 pm.”
No… no no no… This can’t be!
“Chaeha!”
Taeseon’s voice ripped through the silenced chamber. He heard clashing, nurses telling him to calm down. Doctors apologizing.
“Chaeha! Open your eyes, God damn it! Look at me!” Taeseon sobbed, his chest heaving with suffocating breaths.
Chaeha felt something break in him. He wanted to see Taeseon. He wanted to tell him he lived. But how?
“You can’t leave me here alone… please!”
I’m right here, Taeseon… I’m right here… Don’t cry…
He knew he spoke using his own voice, but Taeseon just kept on shouting — ignoring him.
Even begging the Gods to save him.
Chaeha started to see his surroundings as his soul drifted — his consciousness slowly being unthethered from the cold, quiet shell that laid on the hospital bed. The harsh light no longer burned his eyes. It merely cast a soft glow over the tragic scene below.
Chaeha looked at himself — pale and motionless. Beside the bed were nurses who wrote on their clipboards, some were still trying to calm Taeseon down. His lover was on his knees, holding his hand — fingers tangled with his cold digits.
Taeseon…
Chaeha took a step forward, his voice was clear. But no one looked up.
Nothing changed… No one even batted an eye.
Taeseon, I’m right here!!!
He reached out — his trembling hands trying to grab the lapels of Taeseon’s suit and he saw his own hands which were stained with his blood from that night. As their fingers made contact, it passed straight through Taeseon’s body like it was just mist through a flame.
Chills ran through Chaeha’s spine.
He really died. He left Taeseon behind. Ache started to form in his chest — as his gaze shifted to Taeseon who was still holding his lifeless hands.
“You promised… you promised you’d stay safe… You told me you’d keep yourself safe for me…”
I did! I tried… I tried, Taeseon.
Chaeha wandered the streets, bodies passing through his own. He drifted in the wind, watching people live their lives while his, stopped.
Days bled into weeks…
Time moved on for everybody else, yet he stayed frozen. He was a phantom, invisible to the world he had sworn to protect. He was a phantom, invisible to the man who he promised he’d stay alive for.
The places he went to were limited to his own apartment, when Taeseon would visit just to clean his unit. Taeseon refused to let other officers use the place, pulling strings and using connections to do so.
He went to see Taeseon in his office, walking in the hallways going to Office 512. He walked through the door, seeing two empty desks.
One was for him, and the other was for Section Chief Song Haneul.
He saw the light of Taeseon’s office — his lover sitting behind the heavy table. He was surrounded by tall stacks of documents, multiple cups of coffee on top of it, some empty and some are not. He looked hollow — eyes sunken. His suit that was usually well kept now rumpled and loose fitting.
Chaeha walked across the floor, standing in front of his lover. He tried to reach forward, but his fingers just passed through once again.
He hoped it wouldn’t.
When he roamed around the division office, he heard other officers talking about how Taeseon had changed. He rarely greeted anyone, he still kept that stoic look on his face — even when others tried to initiate conversations.
Taeseon took everything on his own. He solved cases without an investigator by his side. He didn’t even try to replace him.
He couldn’t.
Everytime Taeseon would walk out his office, his eyes would instinctively look up to Chaeha’s desk — as Chaeha watched it all happen.
And everytime he did, Chaeha felt something break.
Taeseon now sat beside the cold stone that was Chaeha’s grave. He did this often, bringing fresh flowers — sitting in the silence for hours, ignoring the harsh winds that brushed against his skin.
“I visited your apartment today. Again.”
I know, Taeseon. I was with you.
“Your room still smelled like you.” Taeseon smiled, ruefully. His long and slender fingers tracing the lines of Chaeha’s grave. “I took some of your clothes, I hope you don’t mind. I wanna keep it for myself.”
I know, I watched you take it with your trembling hands.
Chaeha wanted to take Taeseon into his arms and hug him. But all he could do was watch Taeson as he laid his soul bare — talking to nothingness.
He watched as Taeseon stood up, taking something out of the pockets of his suit — his favorite ice cream. With trembling hands, he watched as Taeseon set it down, before turning on his heel and walking away.
Don’t go…
Chaeha stood in front of a restaurant, one of those fancy places for famous for family gatherings. He looked through the windows, as he saw Taeseon sitting behind a table with his aunt. Taeseon barely said a word all through out dinner — only offering polite nods when addressed.
Chaeha moved closer to the window, his image unreflected against the polished glass.
Eat something, Taeseon. Say something, please.
He wondered, maybe if he stared hard enough, Taeseon will look up and see him?
Look at me. Look up, Taeseon. Look right here.
For a long minute, nothing happened. Taeseon remained there, unmoving — his hollow eyes staring at the untouched food on his plate, and his fingers fiddling with the half-empty glass of water.
Then, he froze.
Chaeha’s breath was caught. He watched as Taeseon’s head snap up. And for a second, Chaeha thought their eyes met. Taeseon’s eyes were filled with raw grief.
Can you see me?
Taeseon’s eyes squinted, as if he was trying to look for someone who wasn’t there. Chaeha took another step forward, his body passing through the window and into the restaurant.
He swore he locked eyes with Taeseon. He knew those eyes, it was only reserved for him.
He knew.
But Taeseon sighed, his eyes looking back down.
Chaeha’s lips trembled. He wanted to cry, but there was nothing. He felt his heart breaking into a million pieces, but there were no tears falling. He clutched his heart — the illusion simmering an ache in his chest.
Still, maybe the fact that Taeseon looked for him even when he cannot see him was enough.
Months turned to years. And everybody moved on.
No one talked about what happened that fateful night, the memory of Chaeha slowly vanished from people’s memories.
The clock kept ticking — but not for Chaeha.
And neither did for Taeseon.
They stayed frozen in time, like the hands of their clocks stayed stuck at 9:15pm.
The division office welcomed new officers — those who didn’t learn of the name Lee Chaeha. Taeseon resigned even before he could reach the age of retirement, for he could not spend another second in that office, where Chaeha’s voice kept haunting him — breaking his heart all over again.
He brought all of Chaeha’s belongings, leaving his own behind.
Every night, Taeseon would lie awake, the medication for insomnia deemed useless. He watched Taeseon's lips tremble, calling out his name over and over — even in dreams.
He watched during the night when Taeseon would awaken, sweat forming on his forehead, clutching his chest, before bursting into ugly cries — the name “Lee Chaeha” echoing in the whole room.
Chaeha watched it all.
Now Taeseon stood in front of Chaeha’s grave, something that never faltered in his routine. Today, he brought lilies. The white petals of the flower reminding him of Chaeha’s innocence. Taeseon carefully set them down, before sitting beside the cold stone, rebuilt and repolished an innumerable amount of times over the years. His name was still there, perfectly traced in black ink like it had never been tarnished.
Chaeha watched Taeseon grow old, wrinkles forming at the sides of his eyes. He watched as strands of Taeseon’s hair turned gray.
But he was still the same Joo Taeseon he learned to love.
“I miss you.”
I miss you, too.
“I forgot your voice, Chaeha. I forgot your face.”
I’m right here.
“Can’t you just take me with you?”
That would be selfish of me.
Taeseon smiled, looking down on the stone.
“You’re probably saying that you would be selfish for that huh?”
You know me too well, Taeseon.
“It’s been so long without you… I’m tired.” Taeseon’s voice was soft, it was almost a whisper.
I’m right here, Taeseon… I’ve been here all along.
“I don’t know where you are… But I feel you. I feel you with me.”
Chaeha felt profound grief simmering in his chest — as he stood beside the man whos heart had remained his through every ticking second of his lifetime.
“I never left.”
I never left.