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Dong-sik is just a simple, pathetic person in their eyes. Someone that can't even hurt a fly, let alone fight for his self. He gets bullied and mistreated by his colleagues, making him the office clown. They took advantage of his vulnerability. Such as dumping their works on him because despite doing so, no one will lend a hand to help him.
.
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Yook Dong-sik tried to report the way he was being mistreated at work, gathering what little courage he had left as he stood in front of their team leader. His hands felt clammy, his voice uncertain, but he forced the words out anyway — about the constant belittling, the unfair workload, and the quiet humiliation he endured every day.
For a brief moment, he allowed himself to hope. But that hope shattered quick. Because instead of receiving help, a scoff was all he received. His team leader didn’t even bother to hide his annoyance.
He dismissed Dong-sik’s words as excuses, his tone sharp and cutting as he questioned his competence. The complaints were turned against him, his “weakness,” his “inability to keep up,” his “tendency to overreact.” Each word landed heavier than the last, stripping away whatever confidence Dong-sik had tried to hold onto.
The conversation ended before it could even begin.
Dong-sik stood there, frozen, as if waiting for something — anything to change. But nothing did. The office carried on as usual, indifferent to the quiet breakdown happening in the corner of the room.
When he finally stepped out, the weight in his chest felt heavier than before. Because now, it wasn’t just his coworkers he had to endure—
it was the realization that no one was going to help him at all.
Plan A: failed
Plan B: ...
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One saturday, dong-sik entered inside the building of his work place. The office didn’t feel like a workplace on weekends. Quiet, It felt like something abandoned.
Yook Dong-sik stood in the middle of the floor, lights flickering faintly above him. No voices, no footsteps trailing behind him nor laughter cutting through his thoughts. It was just silence.
He walked slowly toward a desk he knew too well. He can't help but think of one certain person that he despise. Park Jae-hoon.
Dong-sik ran his fingers along the edge of the table, stopping at a small dent, one he remembered making when he dropped a stack of files while Jae-hoon laughed. That laugh. It echoed now, even louder in the emptiness. A sigh left his mouth as he straightened his back.
Dong-sik’s lips curled—not in to a smile, not quite anything human.
“Funny,” he whispered. “You’re not here to laugh anymore.” just like that, he made his way downstairs after getting what he was looking for.
.
.
By the time the city woke up, whispers spread faster than the morning traffic. Something had been found. Not in the office but close enough to make people uneasy. A trash bin behind the building, sealed off with tape. Like it was meant to be there, to be shown to the people around. Officers were moving in quiet urgency. Curious onlookers kept at a distance.
On the corner, there stood dong-sik. His face painted with disbelief. Soon, the body was identified as Park Jae-hoon's. Whispers filled the area. The lifeless body had dozens of deep stab wounds— pure anger with ever stab, face ruined.
One thing dong-sik noticed, a man stands tall among the others, his posture naturally straight, untouched by the laziness everyone else seems to carry. His hair is perfectly arranged, each strand resting exactly where it should, as if even the smallest detail has been decided beforehand. There isn’t a single crease in his suit. The fabric lies smooth against him, sharp and clean, like it refuses to bend out of place.
Strangely, that man was staring at him. His gaze eerie and still. Dong-sik swallowed hard as he steps in to the crowd and disappears.
.
The next day, the announcement came without much warning. Employees were called to gather, murmurs spreading as people straightened their clothes and whispered guesses under their breath. Yook Dong-sik stood near the back, half-hidden as usual, hoping not to be noticed.
Then the room shifted, not loud nor dramatic but it changed.
A familiar man appeared in front. Seo In-woo, stepped forward, and suddenly, everyone was paying attention.
“Starting today, Director Seo In-woo will be overseeing operations—”
The rest of the words blurred, dong-sik barely heard them. It's unexpected, he felt uneasy. Because In-woo was looking at him. Not in the way people usually did, not with annoyance or dismissal but something else. Dong-sik felt it immediately.
His shoulders stiffened. His fingers curled slightly at his sides as he tried to look anywhere else. At the floor, at the people in front of him, at anything that wasn’t that gaze. it lingered like it has settled on him for a reason, what could be the reason? He thought to himself.
A faint smile crossed In-woo’s face as he acknowledged the room, calm and composed, every inch of him clean and controlled. People seemed relieved by it, some even impressed. However, one person sure is not welcoming him, dook-sik.
When the brief introduction ended, the room filled with polite applause. Conversations sparked back to life, light and careless.
.
Evening came, almost everybody had left the place. Seo in-woo, sat with his fingers tapping on the glass table formed a smile on his lips as he recall the memory from the other day.
-
"This is the workplace, Sir. Feel free to walk around." One of the team leader spoke, giving him a warm smile. It was a weekend, saturday to be exact. Seo in-woo only looked around, checking every corner. Having his creative thoughts again as he imagine where else can a body be hid anywhere here.
Each step were soundless. In-woo had been about to leave when a man’s voice caught his attention. He paused and lingered by the corner, watching with quiet interest as the conversation unfolded.
When the man finally walked away, In-woo let out a soft chuckle, repeating the last words in his mind "Funny. You're not here to laugh anymore." He first thought that someone close to the young man died.
However, his tone was sharp, yet laced with sarcasm. Like a quiet mockery, In-woo caught the faint smirk on the man’s lips just before he turned and left.
The next day brought a clear sign. Now, he had a sense of who had murdered the man, and discarded him like trash. His suspicion sharpened when he spotted the same young man in the crowd.
Seo In-woo kept his eyes on him, his gaze steady and unblinking. There was something about the man, something unsettling yet magnetic that held his attention. He couldn’t quite name it, but it was enough to spark a quiet, growing intrigue he wasn’t ready to look away from.
Yook Dong-sik clicked his tongue and shrugged the uneasy feeling away. “Creepy bastard,” he muttered under his breath as he stepped into the elevator.
The doors began to slide shut, the narrow gap between them slowly disappearing—until a hand suddenly forced its way through. The sensors reacted instantly, the doors parting open once more.
Standing there was none other than Seo In-woo, his expression calm as ever, though the faint curve on his lips made Dong-sik’s stomach twist with unease.
Dong-sik lowered his head slightly and stepped aside to give In-woo room to enter the elevator. “Ah—sorry” he murmured quietly, offering a small, awkward smile while keeping his gaze fixed on the floor.
The confined silence quickly settled around them, heavy enough to make his shoulders stiffen. Dong-sik curled his fingers against his sleeve, resisting the urge to fidget. Being this close to someone, especially someone like Seo In-woo, made his nerves crawl beneath his skin.
Maybe blending into the crowd would work better, he thought bitterly. If he acted ordinary enough, quiet enough, perhaps people would stop looking at him as though he were different from the rest of his coworkers.
The silence didn’t last long. “Yook Dong-sik, right?" The sudden sound of In-woo’s voice made Dong-sik glance up in surprise. For a brief second, their eyes met before he quickly looked away again and nodded. “Y-Yeah.”
A faint hum escaped In-woo, almost thoughtful. The elevator lights reflected dimly in his eyes as he studied the man standing beside him—his nervous posture, the way his hands stayed close to himself, the quiet tension beneath every movement.
Interesting.
Most people bored him eventually. They were predictable, loud, painfully easy to read. But Dong-sik felt different somehow. Fragile in appearance, yet carrying something buried deep underneath that timid exterior. Something restrained. In-woo felt the corner of his lips curl slightly.
The thought came naturally, almost instinctive. "I must have him."
Not in any soft or affectionate way, but in the same manner one would become possessive over a fascinating discovery they refused to let others touch. He wanted to peel apart every layer Dong-sik tried so desperately to hide from the world. Wanted to see what kind of person would remain once the fear, politeness, and forced smiles were stripped away. And strangely enough, the idea thrilled him.
.
Midnight had long swallowed the city whole. Rainwater dripped steadily from rusted pipes above the alleyway, the sound echoing faintly through the narrow darkness. Hidden near the mouth of the alley stood one of Seo In-woo’s hired watchers, cigarette dimly glowing between his fingers as boredom weighed heavily on him.
Then movement caught his eye which he followed. A figure emerged from the shadows, the man immediately straightened. It's the target, Yook Dong-sik.
Even from a distance, his appearance looked wrong— hair disheveled, sleeves slightly rolled up, breathing uneven as though he had rushed there in panic. Both of his hands gripped a large sealed bundle dragged carefully across the wet pavement.
At first glance, it looked like garbage. Until something dark seeped through the plastic. Something red. The liquid dripped slowly onto the ground, staining the rainwater beneath Dong-sik’s feet before disappearing into the cracks of the alley.
The watcher’s cigarette nearly slipped from his fingers.
Dong-sik paused for a moment, glancing nervously over his shoulder as if afraid someone had seen him. The dim streetlight briefly illuminated his face—pale, tense, yet disturbingly calm beneath the exhaustion.
Then, without another word, Dong-sik continued dragging the sealed bundle deeper into the darkness, the crimson liquid trailing behind him like the remains of something gruesome.
But there was no body inside. Just bags of trash and spilled apple juice carefully prepared beforehand. A performance, a trap. Dong-sik fought the urge to smirk as he sensed the presence lingering nearby. Hidden eyes, careful footsteps. The same suffocating feeling that had followed him for days now.
Did they really think he was foolish enough not to notice a stalker?The thought amused him more than it should have, so he played along. He let his shoulders tense deliberately, let his breathing grow uneven whenever he glanced behind him. Every nervous movement was calculated, crafted perfectly for whoever watched from the shadows.
If they wanted a disturbing scene, then he would gladly give them one. After all, watching people fall for his act was far more entertaining than the act itself.
The watcher immediately pulled out his phone with trembling hands.
Meanwhile, miles away, Seo In-woo stared silently at the photo sent to him moments later.
For several seconds, he said nothing. Then slowly, a smile spread across his face. He was not surprise.
His fingers tightened slightly around the phone as he stared at Dong-sik’s figure captured beneath the flickering alley light. The image felt almost intimate, like uncovering a secret no one else was meant to witness.
So he was right. Beneath all that awkwardness and fear, something darker truly existed inside Yook Dong-sik and instead of pushing In-woo away, the revelation only pulled him deeper in.
.
.
Across the office, Dong-sik sat quietly at his desk, shoulders slightly hunched as he focused on his work. Every now and then, he would glance around as if checking whether someone was watching him.
In-woo almost smiled at that because he was, constantly.
He kept his eyes on him—desire to claim him, Yook dong-sik. Perhaps they were destined to meet like this.
His eyes followed every movement unconsciously now. The way Dong-sik rubbed his temples whenever stressed. The habit of mumbling under his breath. Even the rhythm of his footsteps had become familiar enough for In-woo to recognize from a distance.
It was amusing how unaware Dong-sik remained, pathetic dong-sik. A strange possessiveness slowly coiled inside him the longer he watched. He disliked seeing other coworkers speak too casually with Dong-sik, disliked the way they occupied his attention so easily. Irritation flickered sharply in his chest whenever Dong-sik laughed at someone else’s joke. Pathetic.
None of them understood him the way In-woo could. None of them noticed the fear hidden beneath Dong-sik’s awkward smiles, or the quiet darkness buried somewhere deep inside him.
But In-woo did and that realization alone made him feel oddly connected to him, as though Dong-sik had already become something that belonged within his reach.
.
The office had already emptied for the night, leaving only dim fluorescent lights humming overhead. Dong-sik shoved the remaining files into his bag quietly, eager to leave before someone suddenly remembered unfinished work and pushed it onto him again.
His shoulders already ached from sitting too long, exhaustion clinging heavily to him after another evening spent cleaning up mistakes that weren’t even his own.
“You always stay this late?” Dong-sik nearly flinched. Seo In-woo stood beside the cubicle entrance with one hand tucked into his pocket. Calm posture. Perfect suit. That same unreadable smile. Dong-sik lowered his gaze quickly. “I was finishing reports.”
“In other words,” In-woo said softly, “they forced you to stay again.”
Silence followed. Dong-sik hated how observant he was. In-woo stepped closer, fingers brushing lightly against the edge of the desk.
“You know, people tend to mistake quietness for weakness.” in-woo added. Dong-sik gave a dry laugh as he responded. “That’s because I am weak.”
In-woo didn’t say anything. He answered only with silence, calm and unnervingly deliberate, as if words were unnecessary. A low smile slowly pulled at the corner of his lips, faint enough to almost go unnoticed yet enough to send tension crawling through the air between them.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?” suddenly, in-woo asked. Dong-sik blinked once, confused by how naturally the question left In-woo’s mouth. The offer itself sounded harmless enough, yet something beneath it felt strangely sharp, hidden carefully beneath politeness like a blade wrapped in silk.
“Why?” In-woo smiled faintly at his question.
“Because I’m curious about you.” The answer unsettled him more than it should have.
Still, refusing his director directly felt difficult, especially when Seo In-woo continued looking at him with that same unreadable expression. So after a brief hesitation, Dong-sik quietly agreed.
.
The restaurant In-woo brought him to afterward felt far too expensive for someone like him. Even the glasses looked delicate enough to break if touched incorrectly. Dong-sik sat stiffly across from the older man, barely touching the food while In-woo calmly poured wine into his glass with slow, practiced movements.
“Don’t be nervous,” In-woo observed casually before taking a sip.
“I’m confused,” Dong-sik admitted almost immediately.
“About?”
Dong-sik frowned faintly, fingers tightening slightly around the utensils in his hands. “You’re a director. I’m…” He hesitated before finishing quietly, “just an employee.”
In-woo tilted his head slightly at that. “You think very little of yourself.”
Dong-sik looked away instead of answering.
The truth was, he genuinely didn’t understand why this man kept paying attention to him. There was nothing remarkable about him. At least, nothing people usually considered worth noticing.
“You know what I think?” In-woo asked after a moment, resting his chin lightly against his hand.
Dong-sik already regretted asking before the word even left his mouth. “What?”
“I think you pretend very well.” The atmosphere shifted almost immediately. Dong-sik’s hand stopped moving.
For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. The sounds of quiet conversations and clinking glasses around the restaurant suddenly felt strangely distant. Dong-sik slowly lifted his gaze toward him again, confusion mixing with visible caution now.
“I don’t understand.” Seo in-woo suddenly reached into his pocket and placed his phone down on the table between them. The screen lit up.
A dark alleyway. A stained sack dragged across wet pavement. His own face caught beneath the weak flicker of a streetlight. Dong-sik felt his chest tighten almost immediately.
For a brief second, neither of them spoke.
“You followed me?” Dong-sik finally asked, his voice quieter than usual. There was no anger in it yet, only confusion.
Seo In-woo tilted his head slightly before answering. “I became curious.” The response made something uncomfortable settle in Dong-sik’s stomach. Curious, such a harmless word for something that clearly went beyond normal interest. He looked back at the image again, longer this time, his brows slowly pulling together as though trying to understand how bad it truly appeared from another person’s perspective.
The alley itself looked horrible enough already. Dark, isolated, wet from rain. Combined with the shape of the sack and the stains soaking through the fabric, it was obvious what someone would assume immediately.
A weak laugh escaped him unexpectedly, though it lacked any real amusement.
“This…” He hesitated briefly before continuing, almost sounding embarrassed. “Do I honestly look suspicious enough for this?” In-woo didn’t answer right away. Instead, he watched Dong-sik carefully, paying close attention to every subtle shift in expression crossing his face.
“A man was found dead this morning,” In-woo said at last. “The injuries were excessive. Whoever killed him wanted him to suffer.”
Dong-sik stared at the screen silently for several long seconds before letting out a small, breathless sigh under his nose. It sounded more nervous than amused.
“You think I did that?” The question came quickly, though not defensive. If anything, he sounded more disturbed by the accusation itself than frightened of being caught. His expression shifted subtly afterward, lips pressing together as he looked away from the phone again.
Seo In-woo noticed the way his posture seemed to shrink inward little by little, the same exhausted body language he carried around the office every day whenever coworkers dumped responsibilities onto him or laughed behind his back.
“You’ve seen how people treat me at work,” Dong-sik murmured after a moment, quieter now. “They barely think I can stand up for myself.”
A faint smile touched his lips briefly, though it disappeared almost as quickly as it came.
“The team leader still checks my reports twice because he thinks I’ll mess them up somehow,” he continued. “Even when I stay overtime to finish everyone else’s work.” His gaze lowered toward the concrete floor beneath them. “I know I look pathetic sometimes, but murdering someone?” The sentence trailed off unfinished.
It sounded believable because Dong-sik himself seemed unable to fully process the accusation. There was no dramatic denial, no outrage, nothing that felt rehearsed. Only visible discomfort and quiet disbelief, as though he genuinely couldn’t understand why someone would connect him to something so violent.
Seo In-woo remained silent, though his attention never wavered.
Dong-sik noticed it eventually. The staring. The way In-woo kept looking at him not with suspicion alone, but with something far more unsettling beneath it. It made him strangely uneasy.
“That night…” Dong-sik began again after a long pause, fingers tightening faintly around his sleeves. “I thought someone was following me.” His voice dropped softer toward the end, almost reluctant to admit it aloud.
“I kept hearing footsteps behind me whenever I walked home from work. Sometimes I’d turn around and nobody would be there, but…” He laughed weakly under his breath, clearly embarrassed now.
“I don’t know. Maybe I got paranoid.” Seo In-woo listened without interruption.
“So I made it look strange on purpose,” Dong-sik admitted quietly. “I thought if someone really was following me, maybe they’d leave me alone if they got scared enough.”
At that, Seo In-woo glanced once more toward the image on his phone. The sack, the stains, the awkward dragging movement caught by the camera from a distance. Suddenly the entire scene became easier to reconstruct differently. Fear could explain irrational behavior. Fear could explain poor decisions. Fear could even explain why Dong-sik looked so tense in the photograph itself. Yet despite how reasonable the explanation sounded, Seo In-woo still felt that same fascination lingering beneath his ribs. Because Dong-sik never once directly denied being capable of violence.
The realization amused him more than it should have.
“You probably think I’m crazy now,” Dong-sik said with another quiet laugh, though this one carried more humiliation than humor. “Honestly, I think I scared myself more than whoever was supposedly following me.” Seo In-woo finally smiled faintly at that.
“No,” he replied softly. “I don’t think you’re crazy.”
Dong-sik looked up at him then, surprised by the answer.
For a brief moment, their eyes met properly beneath the dim rooftop lights, and something subtle shifted between them. Dong-sik could not fully explain why the look in Seo In-woo’s eyes unsettled him so deeply.
It wasn’t relief nor was disappointment. It felt more dangerous than both. Because instead of losing interest after hearing the explanation, Seo In-woo seemed even more intrigued than before.
.
After that, Yook Dong-sik and Seo In-woo parted ways without exchanging another word. Dong-sik quietly disappeared into the crowded streets, his figure slowly blending into the restless movement of the city at night.
In-woo remained still for a brief moment, watching him leave with an unreadable expression before finally turning away. His car was parked several blocks away near the quieter side of the city, tucked beneath the dim glow of flickering streetlights and rows of nearly empty buildings. The cold night air brushed past him as he walked toward it in silence, hands resting inside his coat pockets, his footsteps echoing softly.
Then suddenly, a drunken man bumped harshly into his shoulder.
“Watch where you’re going, asshole.” The stranger nearly lost his balance afterward, the heavy smell of alcohol clinging to him so strongly it mixed with the cold evening air. His face was flushed red, movements sloppy and uneven, yet his voice carried the loud confidence of someone too intoxicated to recognize danger. A few more insults followed after that— careless, crude, unnecessary.
In-woo stopped walking. For a brief moment, he simply stared at the man without expression, dark eyes unreadable beneath the faint glow of the streetlights. His silence only seemed to amuse the drunk further, mistaking the calmness for weakness. That was his mistake.
Hours later, the same man was kneeling on the concrete floor of an abandoned building several streets away, blood dripping steadily from his split mouth.
In-woo crouched in front of him calmly, sleeves stained dark near the cuffs. His breathing remained steady despite the mess around him, eyes cold and focused as though he were examining something broken rather than human.
“P-please…” the man wheezed weakly. The sound immediately irritated him. In-woo grabbed his jaw harshly, fingers pressing into bruised skin as he forced the man to keep eye contact. The drunk’s body trembled violently beneath his grip.
“You talked too much,” In-woo said quietly. The man began crying openly after that, tears mixing with blood while desperate apologies spilled from his swollen lips. His shoulders shook against the restraints holding him in place, humiliation written all over his face.
“Pathetic.”
In-woo watched the man silently for a long moment, his expression unreadable as desperate sobs echoed weakly through the abandoned room. Blood dripped steadily onto the concrete beneath the chair while the man continued trembling against the restraints, desperately trying to escape.
The sight only irritated him further. A faint smile slowly touched the corner of In-woo’s lips—small, cold, and completely empty of sympathy. He tilted his head slightly, studying the man as though trying to understand why people always became so pitiful once fear finally reached them.
Then his hand tightened around the hammer. “You people are all the same,” he murmured quietly, almost to himself. “Loud when you think you’re safe… pathetic when you realize you’re not.”
The man cried harder at that, begging incoherently through blood and tears.
In-woo exhaled sharply, the frustration he had buried since earlier finally surfacing beneath his calm expression. Without another word, he swung the hammer downward.
A sickening crack echoed through the room.
The man’s scream cut off into a choked sound as the chair nearly tipped sideways from the force. In-woo stared at him breathing heavily for a brief second before gripping the hammer tighter, something dark and restless finally unraveling beneath his composed exterior.
“Annoying,” he hissed under his breath, voice colder now, edged with restrained fury rather than calm amusement.
Unknown to him, Dong-sik had been following him ever since they parted ways outside the company building.
At first, it hadn’t even been intentional. Seo In-woo simply moved in a way that drew attention naturally, too composed, too unreadable, like a person carefully stitched together from habits instead of emotions. Dong-sik told himself he was only curious. After all, people like Seo In-woo didn’t usually take interest in people like him without reason. Yet curiosity slowly turned into something else the longer he tailed him through the quieter parts of the city that evening.
Then came the shouting. Dong-sik had paused near the corner of a convenience store when he spotted the commotion from afar. A drunken man staggered toward In-woo aggressively, cursing loudly enough that even nearby pedestrians turned their heads. The entire situation felt absurdly amusing to watch. Anyone with common sense could tell immediately that Seo In-woo was not someone to provoke carelessly. There was something deeply wrong hidden behind those calm eyes of his, something sharp enough to make even silence feel threatening.
Yet the drunk man either failed to notice or simply didn’t care.
Dong-sik watched from a distance as the argument escalated briefly before In-woo’s hand suddenly wrapped around the man’s arm with frightening force. The smile on In-woo’s face never disappeared, which somehow made the entire thing worse. Without creating much scene at all, he forcibly dragged the still-protesting man toward an abandoned building hidden between older establishments farther down the street.
That was the moment Dong-sik should have left. Instead, he followed.
The inside of the abandoned structure smelled damp and rotten, dust thick enough to sting his nose the deeper he stepped inside. Dong-sik remained hidden behind a partially broken wall near the entrance, careful not to make noise as he peeked through the narrow opening. His throat suddenly felt unbearably itchy, forcing him to press a hand tightly over his mouth to stop himself from coughing.
Then he saw it. The first punch echoed loudly inside the empty building. The drunken man collapsed almost instantly against the concrete floor, groaning weakly while blood spilled from his mouth. Seo In-woo stood above him with unsettling calmness, adjusting the sleeve of his suit before striking him again without hesitation. There was no anger visible in his face. No frenzy. If anything, he looked mildly inconvenienced, like someone irritated by unnecessary noise.
Dong-sik felt his stomach tighten slightly.
Slowly, almost instinctively, he pulled his phone from his pocket and began recording. The screen trembled faintly in his hands as the violence continued. The man on the floor begged eventually, voice wet and slurred through broken teeth, though Seo In-woo barely reacted to it. He crouched down afterward, gripping the man’s jaw tightly enough to force eye contact before driving the blade downward with horrifying precision.
Dong-sik swallowed hard. The footage captured everything— the blood soaking through concrete, the awful choking sounds, Seo In-woo’s disturbingly calm expression throughout it all. Somehow, that expression unsettled him more than the violence itself.
Eventually, silence returned. Seo In-woo let out a soft sigh afterward, straightening his posture while wiping blood carefully from his hands with a handkerchief. He looked satisfied and clean, despite the corpse twitching weakly near his shoes.
Then suddenly, distant sirens echoed somewhere outside. In-woo’s brows furrowed slightly.
For a moment he remained still, listening. Unease flickered faintly through his expression, though it disappeared almost immediately as he dismissed the possibility. Probably unrelated. The city was loud every night. But the sirens grew closer, too close.
Suddenly, the fragile entrance doors burst open violently.
“Police! Don’t move!”
Flashlights flooded the building almost instantly as officers rushed inside. The dying man on the floor immediately drew their attention, chaos erupting through the abandoned structure in seconds.
Seo In-woo reacted fast. Before anyone could properly corner him, he disappeared behind several large storage boxes stacked near the back hallway. His breathing remained controlled despite the situation, though irritation burned visibly behind his eyes now. Someone had called the police. Someone had been watching.
He knew the building had another exit somewhere deeper inside, but reaching it meant crossing part of the second floor first. A gunshot suddenly rang out, concrete shattered near him. The officers had already spotted movement.
In-woo clicked his tongue under his breath before sprinting toward the broken windows farther ahead. More shouting followed immediately after, accompanied by another deafening shot that tore through the air and straight through his shoulder. Pain exploded violently across the right side of his body.
In-woo stumbled hard against the wall, breath catching sharply between clenched teeth. Warm blood immediately soaked through the fabric of his suit, dripping steadily down his arm as more voices echoed somewhere behind him. “Up there!” He forced himself forward anyway.
The broken window led into a narrow alley behind the abandoned building, dark enough to conceal him temporarily as he staggered into the night. His vision blurred slightly from blood loss, though adrenaline kept his legs moving.
Hospital. He needed to reach a hospital before—
Suddenly, someone grabbed his arm and yanked him sharply sideways. In-woo nearly reacted violently on instinct before realizing he was being pulled behind a narrow passage hidden between two buildings. The figure pressed him firmly against the wall just as several officers rushed past the alley entrance without noticing them.
Only then did Seo In-woo properly look up. Dong-sik stood directly in front of him, breathing unevenly from exertion.
“Going to a hospital might cause some risk, Mr. In-woo,” he murmured quietly while supporting his uninjured side. For a brief moment, In-woo simply stared at him. Amusement slowly crept into his expression despite the pain burning through his shoulder.
Of all people.
Dong-sik avoided eye contact almost immediately afterward, seemingly nervous beneath the weight of In-woo’s stare. “My apartment is close,” he added softly. “You should treat the wound first before moving again.” In-woo said nothing for several seconds. Then unexpectedly, he laughed under his breath.
Trusting another person this easily should have felt dangerous. Yet strangely enough, following Dong-sik felt natural.
The apartment itself was small enough to feel cramped with another person inside. Worn furniture filled most of the limited space, though despite the clutter, everything remained surprisingly neat. A faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air after Dong-sik opened the medical kit and placed it carefully on the table beside the couch.
Seo In-woo sat leaning slightly against the cushions, the ruined shoulder of his dress shirt soaked dark with blood by now. The earlier adrenaline had begun fading little by little, allowing the pain to settle properly into his body. Still, his expression remained unusually calm considering the situation.
Dong-sik knelt beside him quietly. “You should take this off first,” he murmured while reaching carefully for the bloodstained fabric.
In-woo allowed him to work without complaint, though his eyes never once left Dong-sik’s face. The younger man’s hands were surprisingly steady while cutting through the damaged sleeve, movements careful and practiced enough to immediately stand out.
“You know how to treat gunshot wounds?” In-woo asked softly.
Dong-sik hesitated for a brief moment before answering. “I studied medicine before.” That clearly caught his interest.
“You did?”
“I dropped out.” dong-sik added.
The response came short, almost dismissive, as though he regretted mentioning it at all. Dong-sik quickly shifted his attention back toward the injury afterward, cleaning the wound carefully despite the amount of blood coating his fingers now. He moved with quiet efficiency, brows slightly furrowed in concentration while wrapping fresh bandages securely around the injured shoulder.
Seo In-woo found himself oddly amused by the situation.
Only a few hours ago, he had watched this same man struggle to make eye contact during meetings. Now Dong-sik sat inches away from him, calmly treating a bullet wound without trembling once.
“You don’t seem frightened,” In-woo observed after a while. Dong-sik let out a weak laugh beneath his breath, though his eyes remained lowered toward the bandages. “I think tonight stopped feeling normal a long time ago.”
The answer earned another soft chuckle from In-woo himself.
Silence settled between them again afterward, interrupted only by the occasional clink of medical tools against the tray. Outside, distant sirens still echoed faintly somewhere far across the city.
Then suddenly, In-woo spoke again. “…Someone had been watching me.” Dong-sik’s fingers paused for the briefest second.
In-woo stared ahead thoughtfully. “And whoever it was even called the police.” A quiet sigh escaped him afterward, irritation lingering beneath his calm tone.
“Some bastard really ruined my evening.”
Dong-sik lowered his head slightly at that, pretending to focus on tightening the bandages properly. Yet a faint smile almost appeared at the corner of his lips.
That bastard is me. The thought settled warmly inside his chest in a way that honestly should have concerned him more. Still, he kept his expression carefully neutral as he finished securing the bandage around In-woo’s shoulder.
“Maybe they got scared,” he suggested softly.
“Mm.” In-woo leaned back slightly against the couch, gaze slowly drifting toward him again. “Maybe.”
But the look in his eyes suggested he was already thinking far deeper than that. Dong-sik could feel it. Seo In-woo was trying to piece things together again, observing every little reaction with that same unsettling attentiveness of his. It reminded Dong-sik of a predator testing whether prey would run if cornered.
The strange part was, he wasn’t sure which one of them was supposed to be the predator anymore.
.
The apartment gradually fell quiet again after Dong-sik finished securing the bandages around Seo In-woo’s shoulder. The tension from earlier still lingered faintly in the air, mixing strangely with the scent of antiseptic and blood. Outside, distant sirens occasionally echoed through the city, though they sounded far enough now to no longer matter.
Dong-sik sat back slightly after cleaning the remaining blood from his hands, avoiding eye contact almost immediately afterward. Being this close to Seo In-woo for too long felt uncomfortable in ways he couldn’t properly explain. Maybe it was the intensity of his gaze. Or maybe it was the fact that even injured, In-woo still carried himself with unsettling composure, like a man completely capable of violence despite bleeding onto someone else’s couch.
“You’re staring again,” Dong-sik muttered quietly while putting away the medical tools.
In-woo smiled faintly. “You noticed.” Dong-sik let out a tired sigh at that familiar answer before finally glancing toward him again. “You keep saying that.”
Something about prolonged eye contact with Seo In-woo always felt dangerous, as though the older man could slowly peel apart every thought hiding underneath his expression if given enough time. It irritated him slightly.
The room fell silent for a moment afterward. Then unexpectedly, In-woo reached out. His fingers wrapped loosely around Dong-sik’s wrist before he could fully pull away.
The sudden contact made Dong-sik freeze almost immediately. In-woo’s grip wasn’t forceful. If anything, it felt strangely careful despite the blood still staining parts of his hand. Yet the gesture itself carried enough quiet intention to make the atmosphere shift instantly.
Dong-sik slowly looked back toward him. “…What?”For once, Seo In-woo didn’t answer immediately. His eyes moved carefully across Dong-sik’s face instead, lingering in a way that felt far too focused to be casual. The younger man suddenly became hyperaware of how close they actually were now, knees nearly touching from where he sat beside the couch.
“You hide yourself very well,” In-woo said softly.
Dong-sik frowned faintly. “I don’t know what you mean.” Another small smile appeared.
“You always say that.”
Before Dong-sik could properly respond, In-woo suddenly pulled him slightly closer by the wrist. Not enough to hurt but just enough to catch him off guard.
Dong-sik’s breath hitched faintly from the abrupt movement, his free hand instinctively pressing against the couch beside In-woo to steady himself. Their faces ended up far closer than before now, close enough for him to notice the faint smear of dried blood near In-woo’s jawline.
“In-woo—”
“You’re interesting when you stop pretending,” In-woo murmured quietly. The words unsettled him immediately because there was no mockery behind them.
Dong-sik felt his chest tighten strangely beneath the weight of that stare. The apartment suddenly felt smaller somehow, the silence heavier. He should have pulled away immediately. Should have laughed awkwardly and created distance again.
Instead, neither of them moved. Seo In-woo’s gaze briefly flickered downward. Somehow, that tiny movement alone made the atmosphere feel strangely heavier. The apartment suddenly felt too quiet, too small, every second stretching awkwardly the longer they remained sitting that close to each other.
Dong-sik became painfully aware of the hand still loosely wrapped around his wrist, of how near their faces actually were now. He cleared his throat softly before trying to pull back.
“I should put the medici—” His sleeve caught against the edge of the medical tray. Everything happened too quickly after that.
The tray tilted violently, metal tools clattering loudly onto the floor as Dong-sik lost his balance entirely. His eyes widened in surprise as his body lurched forward instinctively, one hand grabbing blindly for support and accidentally crashing directly into Seo In-woo instead.
Their lips brushed together for the briefest second. Dong-sik froze. He felt ants crawling inside his throat as goosebumps overwhelmed him.
His mind went blank almost immediately as he realized what had just happened. The awkward position only made it worse, one hand pressed uselessly against In-woo’s chest while the older man stared back at him in visible surprise. For one horrible moment, neither of them moved at all.
Then Dong-sik abruptly pulled away so fast he nearly fell off the couch entirely.
“I—” His voice cracked slightly from embarrassment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean..”
The words stumbled over each other awkwardly while he avoided eye contact almost immediately afterward, face visibly warming now. He quickly crouched down to gather the fallen medical tools instead, clearly pretending to focus on cleaning the mess rather than acknowledging what had happened.
Meanwhile, Seo In-woo remained unusually still behind him. Dong-sik’s embarrassment only worsened because of it.
“It was an accident,” he muttered quickly while fumbling to place the tools back into the tray. “The stupid sleeve got caught and I—”
A quiet laugh suddenly interrupted him. Dong-sik froze again.
Slowly, he glanced back over his shoulder only to find Seo In-woo watching him with unmistakable amusement now, the earlier surprise already gone from his expression.
“…You’re laughing?”
“I’m trying not to.” in-woo let out a chuckle.
Another soft laugh escaped In-woo despite himself, quieter this time. Dong-sik immediately looked away again, ears burning from humiliation. “Forget that happened.”
But the moment he said it, he already knew Seo In-woo absolutely would not.
Dong-sik barely had time to process the movement before Seo In-woo’s hand slid lightly against the side of his face, tilting his head upward. The gesture itself felt strangely careful compared to the sharp intensity lingering behind In-woo’s eyes now.
“You really don’t understand what you do to people,” In-woo said quietly.
Dong-sik’s pulse stumbled unevenly against his ribs. The look in Seo In-woo’s face unsettled him far more than the sudden closeness did.
Then Seo In-woo wrapped both of his palms around dong-sik's neck, feeling the heat of an alive person on his hands as he forcibly attacked the other's lips.
The contact lasted longer this time, enough to leave Dong-sik momentarily frozen in shock before he finally reacted. His fingers instinctively tightened against the fabric of In-woo’s sleeve while his thoughts tangled uselessly together, surprise quickly giving way to confusion beneath the weight of the moment.
When In-woo finally pulled back, the apartment felt painfully quiet again. Dong-sik stared at him speechlessly for several seconds.
After that unexpected moment, Seo in-woo suddenly became curious, too curious with dong-sik's life.
“You’re bleeding again.”
Dong-sik looked up from his paperwork in confusion before noticing the small cut across his knuckles. He must have reopened it accidentally while carrying storage boxes earlier.
“It’s nothing,” he muttered. Seo In-woo disagreed without words.The older man simply grabbed his wrist gently and pulled him toward the director’s office before Dong-sik could protest properly.
The entire walk there felt humiliating. Employees openly stared while whispering among themselves, confusion spreading immediately over why someone like Seo In-woo kept paying attention to him specifically. Dong-sik could already imagine the rumors forming.
Inside the office, In-woo calmly sat him down before opening one of the desk drawers. A first aid kit appeared moments later.
“You really should take better care of yourself,” he murmured while cleaning the cut carefully.
Dong-sik watched him awkwardly. “You make it sound like I’m dying.”
“You look exhausted enough to.” in-woo added with his lips slightly raised.
“That’s because your company works people like slaves.” that response earned a quiet laugh from In-woo. Dong-sik instantly regretted speaking so casually.
The atmosphere shifted strangely whenever they were alone together. Conversations felt easier than they should have, yet at the same time, far more dangerous. Like standing too close to the edge of something without realizing how deep the fall actually was.
.
At some point, Seo In-woo simply began existing inside Dong-sik’s life too naturally. It started with small things.
A cup of coffee already sitting on Dong-sik’s desk before work began. Quiet walks home after overtime. Text messages appearing late at night asking whether he had eaten yet, only to shift into unsettlingly personal questions minutes later.
(Do you always look this tired?)
(Why do you let people talk to you like that?)
(You smiled at that cashier more genuinely than you smile at your coworkers.)
The messages themselves never sounded openly threatening, yet Dong-sik always felt strangely observed afterward, like Seo In-woo had been studying him from a distance long before deciding to step closer.
It should have frightened him more. Instead, he found himself replying anyway. Sometimes hours later. Sometimes immediately.
That part bothered him most.
.
The apartment smelled faintly of bleach.
Not enough to immediately alarm someone, only enough to linger subtly in the air alongside the metallic scent of drying blood. The television murmured quietly in the background, casting dull flickers of light across the cramped apartment while some late-night program played completely ignored.
Seo In-woo stood near the kitchen sink with his sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, calmly washing crimson from beneath his fingernails as though cleaning up after dinner instead of murder. Water ran softly over his hands before disappearing pink down the drain.
Across the room, Yook Dong-sik sat motionless on the couch. Dried blood stained the cuffs of his sleeves. Neither of them spoke for a while. Dong-sik’s expression remained unreadable, though tension sat visibly in his shoulders. His pulse still hadn’t settled properly since earlier.
What disturbed him most was not the violence itself. It was the lingering satisfaction afterward.
A quiet chuckle suddenly broke the silence. Dong-sik immediately looked up.
Seo In-woo leaned lazily against the counter now, eyes curved faintly with amusement while observing him from across the apartment. “You looked different tonight.”
Dong-sik frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”
“You stopped hesitating.” The answer came smoothly.
Dong-sik looked away first, jaw tightening subtly at the memory. Earlier that evening had not gone according to plan at all. The man they killed had recognized In-woo from somewhere, drunk enough to run his mouth recklessly while threatening to report him after witnessing something he shouldn’t have seen weeks ago.
Things escalated quickly afterward. Dong-sik still remembered the panic in the man’s face when In-woo cornered him behind the abandoned bar. The begging came later. The screaming that was so loud it was irritating, then came silence.
“You’re staring again,” Dong-sik muttered quietly.
Seo In-woo smiled faintly. “Can you blame me?”
The response made discomfort crawl slowly beneath Dong-sik’s skin. Lately, this had become normal somehow.
Late-night meetings. Bloodstained clothes hidden inside trash bags together. Quiet conversations while cleaning knives at three in the morning as though they were discussing office paperwork instead of bodies. The frightening part was how naturally they had fallen into it. Dong-sik hated acknowledging that.
Seo In-woo walked closer afterward, stopping directly beside the couch before lowering himself into the seat next to him. Not too close.
“You know,” he murmured softly, “most people would’ve thrown up after tonight.”
Dong-sik let out a weak laugh beneath his breath. “Maybe there’s something wrong with me too then.”
“There definitely is.” The answer came immediately. Yet somehow, there was no cruelty in it, only fascination.
Dong-sik turned toward him slightly, prepared to make another dry remark before pausing altogether. Seo In-woo was still looking at him with that same expression again—that quiet, unsettling attentiveness that always made him feel like he was being carefully peeled apart layer by layer.
It made his chest feel strangely tight.
“Stop acting like you’ve figured me out,” Dong-sik muttered eventually. For a brief second, Seo In-woo said nothing. Then slowly, he smiled.
.
---ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ
The next few weeks passed strangely peacefully.
They fell into routines neither of them openly acknowledged. Dong-sik began recognizing the subtle signs of Seo In-woo’s moods before words were ever spoken — the slight twitch in his jaw whenever irritated, the unsettling calmness that appeared before violence, the way he smiled more genuinely after killing someone..
In return, Seo In-woo learned Dong-sik’s habits too. The nervous sleeve-pulling whenever lying. The exhausted silences after particularly violent nights. The fact that Dong-sik always avoided looking directly at corpses afterward, not from guilt but because prolonged staring made him think too much.
It became dangerous how comfortable they grew around each other. One rainy evening, Dong-sik found himself laughing quietly while helping In-woo drag a body across wet pavement after the victim’s shoe slipped off midway.
The sound startled even him and Seo In-woo noticed immediately.
.
.
The problem began three nights later. The victim from the abandoned bar apparently had a younger brother and unlike the police, the man did not care about evidence or legality. Instead, he wanted revenge.
Dong-sik realized something was wrong the moment footsteps started matching his pace on the walk home. His shoulders tensed immediately beneath his coat, instincts sharpening as unfamiliar figures appeared quietly from both ends of the street. Those was too coordinated.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“…Ah.”
One man grabbed for him first.
Dong-sik reacted almost instantly, twisting harshly enough to throw the attacker off balance before slamming his elbow directly into the man’s throat. Another rushed him immediately afterward only to receive a vicious hit to the jaw hard enough to send him crashing against the alley wall.
The third man hesitated which was his mistake. Dong-sik grabbed a broken bottle from nearby trash and slashed without hesitation, forcing the group backward momentarily.
Breathing unevenly now, he glanced around quickly for an escape route.
Then... pain exploded across the back of his skull. Something heavy struck him hard enough to send his vision violently sideways.
Dong-sik staggered forward, barely managing to stay standing before another hit landed directly against his head. The world blurred instantly as his grip loosened.
The broken bottle shattered against concrete. Somewhere nearby, voices sounded distant now.
“Careful, don’t kill him—”
“Just grab him!”
Dong-sik tried moving again but his body refused. Darkness swallowed him completely moments later.
.
---
Seo In-woo noticed the silence after two hours.
By the fourth unanswered call, irritation began settling beneath his skin.
By the seventh, something colder replaced it entirely. Dong-sik rarely ignored messages for this long without reason.
Seo In-woo sat alone inside his office, staring quietly at the unanswered texts before finally opening another application hidden deep inside his phone.
A tracking program. His expression remained calm while loading the location attached to the small bug planted weeks ago inside Dong-sik’s phone case, just in case.
The blinking signal appeared near the outskirts of the city. Abandoned district. Seo In-woo’s eyes darkened almost immediately.
Then slowly.. he smiled.
.
.
.
Consciousness returned slowly. The first thing Dong-sik noticed was the smell, the rust, damp wood and different kinds of stains.Then came the pain.
A sharp ache pulsed violently through the back of his skull while something warm trickled slowly down the side of his neck. His vision blurred faintly as he forced his eyes open, only to realize dim yellow lights hung weakly above him from ceiling of what looked like another abandoned building.
His wrists burned as both of his hands we're tightly tied on the chair. Dong-sik shifted slightly against the chair before immediately stopping when pain flared across his ribs hard enough to steal a breath from him.
“…He’s awake.” A familiar voice answered from somewhere ahead.
The younger brother stepped forward slowly into proper view, exhaustion sitting heavily beneath his eyes. He looked nothing like the man from the alley. Smaller somehow, less cruel. The knife trembling faintly in his hand only made it more obvious.
Dong-sik stared at him quietly for a moment before letting out a weak breath through his nose.
"Ah." A Revenge. All this just to avenge his older brother. The realization almost amused him.
“You remember my brother?” The question came shakier than intended. Dong-sik listened while observing the people.
The man’s jaw tightened immediately afterward, grief twisting visibly into anger as he grabbed Dong-sik harshly by the hair and forced his head upward.
“You killed him like an animal.” That wasn’t entirely true. Seo In-woo had started it. Dong-sik simply finished it. Still, he said nothing.
The younger brother’s breathing gradually worsened the longer the silence stretched between them. Eventually, he raised the knife with visibly trembling hands, trying desperately to look threatening despite how pale he had become.
“You know what they said?” he muttered. “About his body?”
Dong-sik’s gaze lazily drifted toward the blade.
“Mm?”
“That he suffered.” The knife pressed shakily against Dong-sik’s stomach now.
“They said whoever did it enjoyed hurting him.” For a moment, nobody moved.
Then suddenly.. Dong-sik laughed.The sound echoed strangely through the empty building, immediately making the men surrounding him stiffen uneasily. Because there was nothing frightened about it.
The younger brother’s face twisted instantly. “What’s so funny?!” Dong-sik tilted his head slightly despite the restraints cutting painfully into his wrists. Blood still lingered at the corner of his mouth from earlier beatings, yet the faint smile there somehow looked more insulting than fear ever could.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured quietly. The man froze while dong-sik’s smile widened faintly afterward.
“You can’t even hold the knife properly.” The words landed exactly where intended.
One of the men beside them snapped first, violently kicking Dong-sik hard across the chest. Pain exploded through his ribs immediately, knocking the breath from him hard enough to force a rough cough from his throat. Blood splattered onto the floor.
“Bastard!” one of the men shouted as another hit followed almost instantly afterward and then another.
Dong-sik barely managed to stay conscious through it. Boots slammed repeatedly into his stomach and ribs while someone grabbed his hair again, forcing his head upright before the younger brother finally thrust the knife downward, piercing through his skin.
Pain tore sharply through his side. That one actually hurt.
Dong-sik laughed again despite himself, breathless now, blood slipping more heavily from his mouth afterward.
The younger brother looked horrified by it. “You’re insane…”
Dong-sik lowered his head weakly, breathing uneven while more pain spread gradually through his body. Somewhere during the beating, one of his wrists had begun slipping slightly against the restraints.
Interesting. Still, his thoughts drifted elsewhere. Seo In-woo would definitely come.That bastard hated being ignored.The thought alone almost made him smile again.
He’ll arrive just in time to watch me die. Honestly? That sounded pretty funny too.The thoughts in dong-sik's head were louder than the sight infront of him.
.
.
Seo In-woo arrived quietly. His footsteps soundless as he made his way inside. The abandoned building echoed faintly with distant voices and occasional impacts deeper inside while he moved through the shadows almost soundlessly, gun resting loosely in one hand.
Then he finally saw him. Dong-sik sat restrained near the center of the room, head hanging low beneath dim lighting while blood soaked heavily through his clothes and dripped steadily onto the floor beneath the chair.
The younger brother continued shouting something nearby, too consumed by rage to notice movement behind him.
The gunshot echoed deafeningly through the room. One body dropped immediately. Chaos erupted afterward.
Another man turned too late only for a second shot to tear through his shoulder hard enough to send him crashing backward. The third barely managed to grab his weapon before Seo In-woo shot him directly through the throat.
Only the younger brother remained now, collapsing against the wall while clutching his bleeding leg in horror. Seo In-woo walked toward him calmly. The same expressionless face he wore during every murder settled neatly back into place.
“You should’ve run farther,” he murmured. The final gunshot silenced the room completely.
The rope restraints loosened gradually beneath Seo In-woo’s hands.
Dong-sik barely reacted while leaning weakly against the chair now, breathing rough and uneven from blood loss. Up close, the damage looked worse than expected. Bruised ribs, stab wounds, blood everywhere.
Seo In-woo’s jaw tightened faintly. “You look terrible.”
Dong-sik let out another weak laugh at that. “You’re late.”
“I came, didn’t I?”
Before Dong-sik could answer, sudden movement erupted behind them.
One of the men still alive lunged forward violently, thick wire wrapping instantly around Seo In-woo’s throat hard enough to drag him backward onto the ground.
“In-woo!”
Another figure staggered upright nearby despite the blood pouring from his stomach. The man gripped a knife tightly while stumbling directly toward Seo In-woo.
Seo In-woo tried reaching for the gun. The knife came down first. Then suddenly—
Dong-sik threw himself forward. The blade drove directly into his back instead.
A horrible sound escaped Seo In-woo immediately afterward, something between anger and genuine panic as Dong-sik collapsed against him hard enough to knock the air from both of them.
“You lowly bastard,” Dong-sik muttered weakly toward the attacker. Seo In-woo reacted instantly afterward.
The gun fired once, then another one until there was left was silence.
The room finally fell silent for good.
.
Blood soaked steadily through Dong-sik’s shirt now, far too much. Seo In-woo sat against the dusty floor while Dong-sik rested partially across his lap, one bloodstained hand still loosely tangled with his own. The older man’s breathing sounded strangely uneven despite his efforts to stay composed.
Dong-sik noticed immediately. A weak laugh escaped him again, quieter this time. “You look nervous.”
“Shut up.” in-woo immediately responded.
Dong-sik smiled faintly despite the pain. Even now, Seo In-woo’s hands remained steady while pressing desperately against the wound, though the tension visible in his jaw betrayed everything else.
“You’re not dying here,” In-woo muttered coldly.
“Mmm.”
“That wasn’t a suggestion.” in-woo added, his eyes scanning the area. Seo In-woo leaned down slightly afterward, preparing to lift him properly. Then Dong-sik suddenly caught weakly onto the front of his shirt.
“In-woo.”
“What?” Instead of answering immediately, Dong-sik pulled him closer first.
The kiss felt messy and uneven from blood loss, more desperate than graceful, yet neither of them pulled away quickly either. Seo In-woo froze only briefly before gripping him tighter instinctively, like letting go might somehow worsen things.
When they finally separated, Dong-sik’s forehead rested briefly against his shoulder. His breathing sounded thinner now.
“…I’m dying today, bastard.” The words came out almost amused.
Seo In-woo closed his eyes for one brief second afterward before gripping Dong-sik’s hand tighter against his own.
“Then die later,” he muttered quietly. For once, Dong-sik didn’t laugh back. The silence that followed felt wrong immediately.
Seo In-woo’s expression darkened faintly as he slid one arm beneath Dong-sik carefully, lifting him against his chest despite the blood soaking through both their clothes. Dong-sik’s head rested weakly against his shoulder now, body frighteningly light in his grasp.
“We’re leaving,” In-woo said firmly, though the words sounded more like an order to himself. No response came. Dong-sik’s breathing had become shallow enough to barely feel.
“In-woo…” he murmured weakly after a moment, voice barely audible now. Seo In-woo lowered his gaze instantly. “What?” Dong-sik looked at him one last time, strangely calm. Then slowly.. his eyelids began falling shut on their own.
The weak grip clutching Seo In-woo’s shirt loosened little by little before finally slipping away completely, his hand falling lifelessly against his side.
Seo In-woo stopped walking. For a long moment, he simply stood there unmoving in the middle of the bloodstained room, staring quietly down at Dong-sik’s face as though waiting for another sarcastic remark to follow. None came.
The building had never felt this quiet before. Seo In-woo tightened his hold around him instinctively afterward, jaw clenching hard enough to hurt while something unfamiliar settled violently inside his chest.
.
Yook Dong-sik died. The End:)
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