The second hand of the wall clock cut through time at its steady pace.
Beyond the closed window, something that looked like a human shadow flickered past — but Siyun didn’t notice at all.
* * *
After that day, a proper illness came on. Siyun spent an entire day without eating, sleeping like the dead.
On the second day, Siyun came to his senses and let out a sick groan. The fever had settled deep within his body, and even lifting an arm felt like a struggle. Cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck.
He wanted to rest a little longer, but the backlog of appointments came to mind. He forced himself to get up — only to have his head spin the moment he rose, sending him straight back down.
Siyun breathed slowly, trying to settle the dizziness. His head felt ready to split. It was far worse than the hangover he’d suffered when he and Jinwoong drank soju together to celebrate turning twenty.
As time passed, he felt marginally better, and made his way to the bathroom at a slow shuffle.
After washing up briefly, he went to the wardrobe and pulled out a t-shirt and jeans from the single-rack closet.
He had no appetite, but after days of barely eating, he had no strength left at all. He toasted some bread from the freezer, made do with that as a simple breakfast, and headed to the workshop.
Stepping outside, cold air brushed against his skin. The biting wind cut through, and white puffs of breath rose with each exhale. Walking along the alley that smelled of dampness and cold, Siyun pulled his scarf up to the tip of his nose.
The moment he arrived at the workshop, the first thing he did was open the door to air it out, then swept and wiped the floor. Even then, something vaguely unsettling lingered, but he didn’t let himself dwell on it.
His body still felt heavy, but sitting at the workshop and getting back to work emptied his head for a little while. He worked through the most urgent appointments first, and when he glanced at the clock, it was well past noon.
Just then, his phone buzzed. An unknown number was on the screen. Siyun hesitated briefly, then answered.
“Hello?”
— Hello, am I speaking with Cha Siyun? This is Detective Kim Eunseong from the violent crimes unit at the Seoul Western Police Station.
At first, he thought it was a scam call.
But the words that followed made Siyun’s breath stop. The phone in his hand felt like it was subtly slipping. The words coming through the receiver were simple, but they weren’t registering properly.
The moment he heard that Jinwoong had been arrested on charges of attempted murder, Siyun went blank for just a second. Attempted murder. By whom?
Frozen by the absurd charge, Siyun snapped back to his senses and rushed straight to the police station.
And up until that point, he’d thought that if he went there himself, it would be resolved quickly. But reality wasn’t so simple.
“Why not. I’m the victim, and I’m telling you it’s fine.”
But the officer shook his head, saying a formal report had already been filed and that it had to proceed according to procedure. It was enough to make him lose his mind. At this rate, Jinwoong was actually going to be indicted for attempted murder.
“Look, can’t you just—”
Siyun pulled himself together and tried to persuade him again, but the officer wouldn’t budge.
Witness testimony combined with the CCTV footage from inside the workshop made for direct evidence that left no room for dispute.
“CCTV footage? What CCTV — don’t tell me it’s the home CCTV in my workshop? How did you even… no, wait, you didn’t even get my permission to access it!”
“If there is a possibility that the victim’s life was at risk, it can be seized under emergency circumstances.”
“You can do that without a warrant? I’m going to file a complaint!”
“We intend to apply for a post-facto warrant if necessary. You’re free to file a complaint as you please.”
The attitude that said do whatever you want infuriated him. Suppressing the anger that surged within him, Siyun pressed on.
“Look. Can’t you just let it go this once?”
“Once a report has been filed, an investigation is mandatory.”
“I’m not filing one. I’m not! Why is this happening when the person directly involved is saying no?”
“Attempted murder is a non-compoundable offense, as I believe I’ve already explained. And depending on the severity of the crime, an investigation can be launched regardless of the victim’s wishes.”
The officer recited the procedure calmly, not wavering in the slightest. Siyun was dumbfounded. Anyone listening would think he’d been caught up in some enormous case.
His head was spinning. Suppressing the frustration boiling inside him, Siyun asked,
“Then at least tell me who filed the report. You can tell me that much, can’t you.”
Even when he pleaded pathetically, the officer only repeated the same answer as before.
“I cannot disclose the identity of the person who filed the report.”
He might as well be talking to a wall. Growing exasperated, Siyun thumped his chest and asked again.
“I understand that. But doesn’t it count as a mitigating factor if the victim is asking for leniency?”
“As I have explained repeatedly, it isn’t possible until the investigation is complete. Please leave now. Before I arrest you for obstruction of justice.”
After the prolonged back-and-forth, the officer had grown visibly irritated as well.
“…….”
The words that had risen all the way to his throat stopped at the tip of his chin. He knew now, all too well, that there was nothing more he could say that would get through.
Siyun chewed at his lip. The officer had kept quiet about who had filed the report, but somehow he felt like he already knew.
“If you ever need my help, contact me anytime.”
The face of the man who had smiled and said those words with such confidence surfaced in his mind. And in that instant, he realized that all of this was the man’s doing. Had it already been a predetermined sequence of events from that moment? Was I nothing but a puppet, dancing on a board he’d set up?
Just how far back does this go? From the night he came to the workshop? Or from the very first time we met? Does he want something from me?
But no matter how much he thought about it, there was nothing he could think of that an ordinary workshop owner like himself could offer. Could it possibly be related to the fact that I can see those things?
The more he thought, the more the unresolved questions sank deeper into a labyrinth. It felt as though someone was holding invisible strings from behind, controlling everything. An unfamiliar strangeness slowly tightened around his throat. Like something whose true form he could see and yet couldn’t touch — a silhouette visible to the eye but impossible to grasp. Not knowing what Lee Gyohyun wanted made it all the more suffocating.
The officer called out sharply.
“Outsiders, please leave the premises.”
Siyun had been floundering in the swamp of his own thoughts, and the officer’s voice snapped him back.
“Wait, just a moment.”
He was about to say something more to the officer — then closed his mouth. Because he realized there was no point continuing the conversation.
Growing desperate, Siyun fumbled his phone out. But when it came to actually pressing the keys, his fingertips wouldn’t move, as if frozen.
Is this the right thing to do? There might be another way if I looked around. Am I being too hasty? He spent a few seconds deliberating. Then the officer slammed his laptop shut and shouted.
“God, you’re seriously annoying. I said leave. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
At that, Siyun threw away the hesitation he’d been holding onto. With trembling hands, he pressed eleven digits and hit the call button. His heart beat rapidly.
The connection didn’t take long. Siyun licked his dry lips nervously, then spoke.
“Um….”
The words that had risen all the way to his throat wouldn’t come out easily. Siyun steadied his breath as though swallowing a sigh, and parted his lips again.
“This is Cha Siyun.”
Even then, the officer was still eyeing him as if he were nothing but a nuisance.
But a few minutes after the call ended, the atmosphere shifted in an instant.
The officer who had received a single phone call went rigid — and then began moving hurriedly. And not long after, Siyun heard the words that Jinwoong would be released.
It was a relief. And yet, somehow, it felt bitter.
A short while later, Siyun finished filling out the paperwork and left the police station together with Jinwoong.
“Haaa….”
A long sigh escaped him. Having poured out every last bit of his energy over the past few hours, there wasn’t even enough strength left in his legs.
Siyun glanced at Jinwoong standing beside him. He looked completely deflated.
“…….”
There was so much he wanted to say, but Siyun swallowed it all down. He knew that if he said even a single word right now, Jinwoong’s already-drooping shoulders would sink straight to the ground.
