“This time, are you really saying you don’t remember?”
His father’s voice lingered in my ears.
I couldn’t answer.
I couldn’t answer because I couldn’t.
Strangely enough, saying I didn’t remember felt like an excuse. If I truly didn’t know, could I lessen my responsibility, even a little? If I didn’t know how Oh Sejun had collapsed that night, where the knife had disappeared to, or what I had done last.
Could that ignorance save me?
But I knew.
Sometimes, saying you don’t know becomes the most frightening confession of all.
The radio continued to crackle. An unidentified male body found behind an abandoned building. Identity presumed to be Oh Sejun. Scene compromised by rain that fell throughout the night. Murder weapon not found.
The words lodged themselves in my mind one by one.
Murder weapon not found.
The knife was gone.
I tightened my grip on the corner of the desk. My fingertips turned white. Deep inside my abdomen, the wound hidden beneath the bandages throbbed slowly. Every time I inhaled, it felt as if the blade still lodged inside me hadn’t been pulled out.
“Hey, trainee.”
Someone slapped my shoulder.
I looked up. A senior detective was staring at me.
“Don’t space out. Come with us. We’re short on people at the scene.”
“Yes.”
The answer came automatically.
My body moved, and my mind followed a moment later.
I was going back there.
Where I had collapsed. Where Oh Sejun had died. And where someone had taken the knife.
In the police vehicle, I stared out the window. The rain had stopped, but the city was still soaked. The cloudy sky wavered in the puddles on the road, and the wipers had left dry streaks across the glass they no longer moved over.
Then my phone rang.
Kang Taeseok’s name appeared on the screen.
My heart sank.
For a moment, I couldn’t answer. The senior detective beside me glanced at me.
“You going to get that?”
I pressed the call button.
“Yeah, Uncle Taeseok.”
A brief silence.
I could hear Uncle Taeseok breathing on the other end.
“Where are you?”
“On my way to the scene.”
“What scene?”
“The scene where Oh Sejun’s body was found.”
Silence again.
I hated that silence. Uncle Taeseok had always been the kind of person whose silence weighed more than his words. Whenever he said nothing, I found myself wondering first what he had caught me hiding.
“Wait there.”
“What?”
“I’m coming too.”
The call ended.
I stared down at my phone screen for a long time.
Why?
Why was Uncle Taeseok going there?
The Oh Sejun case was a missing college student case being handled by the station where I was doing my internship. Uncle Taeseok’s jurisdiction was different. Of course, the departments could cooperate. But if he was coming in person to the scene where a body had been found, there had to be a reason.
I didn’t learn what that reason was until I arrived.
The area around the abandoned building was already surrounded by police tape. Yellow tape fluttered in the wind, and the crime-scene team moved carefully across the wet ground. The place where I had stood last night was a mess of mud and rainwater.
I hid my expression as best I could.
I steadied my breathing and scattered my gaze. I tried to look at the scene as if I were seeing it for the first time. Like a trainee, like a police academy student, like someone who knew nothing.
But my body remembered.
Oh Sejun had turned around here. I had hit that wall. The sound of the knife falling had come from somewhere around here. And over there, beside that old drain, I had collapsed.
Without realizing it, I pressed a hand to my stomach.
“Are you okay?”
The senior detective beside me asked.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
Lying was getting easier and easier.
A little while later, Uncle Taeseok’s car stopped outside the scene. He got out wearing a long coat. His face was even more rigid than usual. While exchanging a few brief words with the officer in charge, his gaze passed over me once.
I lowered my head.
He walked over to me.
“You got assigned here too?”
“Yes. They said they were short on people.”
“Don’t push yourself.”
My heart shook at those words.
Don’t push yourself.
He didn’t know anything. Not about the bandage wrapped around my stomach, not about how I had been here last night, not about how I had seen Oh Sejun’s face at the end.
Then why did those words frighten me so much?
I was assigned to crowd control. Reporters began gathering, and the neighborhood residents whispered among themselves from a distance. Some held up their phones. Someone said, “Isn’t this that college student disappearance case?”
As I pushed people back, I kept watch on Uncle Taeseok.
He was listening to the crime-scene team’s explanation near the spot where the body had been found. The body was already being prepared for transport. Trauma to the head. A large amount of rainwater in the surrounding area. Most of the blood had been washed away. The exact cause of death required an autopsy. No weapon found.
Uncle Taeseok slowly surveyed the scene.
His eyes had always been like that.
Eyes that searched for what had been missed. Eyes that kept looking until the very end, even when it was already too late. Eyes that heard what no one said.
Suddenly, I was afraid.
What if he found me here?
Even if I hadn’t left anything behind, he knew me. He knew what expression I made when I lied, how I lowered my head when I was hiding something, and how my fingertips stiffened whenever my father came up.
“Team Leader Kang,”
the officer in charge said.
“Is there a particular reason you came all the way out here?”
Without meaning to, I tilted my ear toward them.
Uncle Taeseok was silent for a moment before answering.
“Oh Sejun was a prime suspect in a case under our jurisdiction.”
“What kind of case?”
“A college student murder.”
I stopped breathing.
A college student murder.
It wasn’t a disappearance.
Another college student.
Uncle Taeseok continued in a low voice.
“Two months ago, a twenty-four-year-old woman was found dead in our jurisdiction. We didn’t have enough physical evidence to arrest anyone, but Oh Sejun was on her final known route. The victim’s phone location, witness statements, and parts of her call records all lined up.”
“Then it could be connected to the current disappearance.”
“That’s why I came.”
Uncle Taeseok looked toward the spot where the body had been.
“Because the dead man might not just be a witness. He might be the link between the two cases.”
I took a step back.
Oh Sejun had been the killer.
At least, that was highly likely.
He hadn’t been lying to me. When he said it was already too late for Hayeon, maybe he hadn’t been bluffing. The fact that he had killed someone might not have been a fantasy I had created.
And yet, strangely, I didn’t feel relieved.
Instead, I sank even deeper.
If he had been the killer.
If he really had been a serial killer.
Had I killed him by mistake?
The moment that thought occurred to me, I was horrified by myself.
The dead man had been a serial killer.
If he had survived, someone else might have died. Hayeon’s family might at least get closer to the truth. The injustice suffered by the victim who had died in Uncle Taeseok’s jurisdiction might finally be addressed.
But that didn’t make me okay.
If I had done what the law was supposed to do.
No. I wasn’t even sure I had done it.
That uncertainty was the bigger problem.
I didn’t remember.
I didn’t know what had existed inside that blank space.
That evening, a search and seizure was carried out at Oh Sejun’s home.
I wasn’t in a position to enter the scene itself, but because I was a trainee, I was able to stay behind the search team while helping organize documents and carry items. Oh Sejun’s home was on the third floor of an old studio apartment building. When the door opened, the damp smell of the room mixed with the stale smell of old cigarettes.
The room was unnaturally clean.
That made it even stranger.
The bed was perfectly made, and there wasn’t a speck of dust on the desk. There was one cup, one spoon, and one toothbrush. It looked less like a place where someone lived than a stage set up to deceive people.
But there was always somewhere behind the stage.
The search team found a locked metal box beneath the bed. The moment the lock was cut and the lid opened, the air in the room changed.
There were things inside.
A woman’s hairpin. A single small earring. A torn student ID case. Lip balm. A phone case. Several photographs.
My fingertips went rigid when I saw one of them.
It was the key chain Hayeon had supposedly been carrying on the day she disappeared. A blue cat-shaped key chain her friend had made for her. It was exactly the same as the one in the photograph from the case file.
Beside it was a silver ring that appeared to belong to the victim in Uncle Taeseok’s jurisdiction.
Uncle Taeseok’s face hardened.
“Evidence bags.”
His voice was low, but it didn’t tremble.
Still, I knew.
He was angry.
Not angry at the person who had killed them. His face was that of a man angry at himself for arriving too late.
Something was found on the computer too.
It was password-protected, but before long, they managed to open some of the files. The folders were labeled with dates. Inside were photographs and short document files. Records written like diary entries.
I couldn’t look directly at the screen for long. But a few sentences caught my eye.
‘Held out for a long time today.’ ‘All frightened faces look alike.’ ‘It was good that it rained. The sound covered everything.’ ‘Next time, somewhere quieter.’
My stomach turned.
I remembered the rain that night.
It was good that it rained.
Had my father thought the same way?
When it rained after he killed someone, had he felt that the world was helping him? Had he smiled as he watched the traces wash away, people’s memories grow hazy, and the case slowly recede?
I turned my eyes away from the screen.
My father was standing beside me.
He looked around Oh Sejun’s room and chuckled softly.
“Similar.”
No.
“He kept things organized.”
No.
“And he left records.”
I’m different from you.
My father whispered into my ear.
“But Doyoon, he got caught, and you didn’t.”
I stopped breathing.
After that night, the world moved quickly.
The news began reporting Oh Sejun’s name. Prime suspect in the missing college student case. Possible connection to a previous college student murder. Belongings of victims found in his home. Diary believed to contain records of his crimes found on his computer.
People were furious.
And soon, they began saying other things.
“Whoever killed him, at least he got what he deserved.” “Maybe someone took care of the serial killer the police couldn’t catch.” “These days, we really need a dark hero.” “The victims’ families must feel relieved, if nothing else.”
I shut off my phone as I read the comments.
The world was protecting me again.
No. This time, it was praising me without even knowing who I was.
Someone who killed a serial killer.
Someone faster than the law. Someone who arrived before the police. Someone who punished him in the victims’ place.
They called that someone a hero.
The word disgusted me.
And yet, at the same time, for one brief moment—just one brief moment—a thought crossed my mind.
Oh Sejun could never kill anyone again.
The moment that thought occurred to me, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
The trip home from work was long.
When I left after my internship, the sky had sunk into darkness. It wasn’t raining, but the air was still damp. On the bus home, I kept pressing a hand to my stomach. Not because I was afraid the wound would open.
It felt like something might seep out from inside.
I didn’t know whether it was guilt, relief, or my father’s blood.
My phone rang the moment I got home.
It was Mingyu.
I stared at the screen for a long time before answering.
“Hello?”
“Are you home?”
Mingyu’s voice was low.
“Yeah.”
“I need to look at your wound. You didn’t disinfect it properly yesterday. If you’ve been moving around, it could’ve gotten worse.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
I couldn’t answer.
Mingyu was silent for a moment before speaking.
“Send me your address. I’ll come over.”
I should have refused.
I couldn’t drag Mingyu any deeper into this. He had already taken me to the hospital last night. He had arranged for me to be treated without leaving a record. That was enough. I couldn’t let him come any further inside me.
But there was something I needed to ask him too.
About that night.
The time I couldn’t remember.
And the missing knife.
“Okay.”
I sent him my address.
Mingyu arrived in less than thirty minutes. He was carrying a black bag, and exhaustion showed on his face. The moment he entered the room, he looked around. He wasn’t looking at my home like a visitor. He had the eyes of someone checking whether a patient was somewhere safe.
“Lie down.”
“Mingyu.”
“The wound first.”
He cut me off, washed his hands, and took disinfectant, gauze, and fresh bandages from his bag. When I lifted my shirt, the bandage wrapped around my abdomen was exposed. A little blood had seeped through.
Mingyu’s face hardened.
“You went to the scene today.”
I didn’t answer.
“Are you crazy?”
“I had to go.”
“You almost died.”
“I still had to go.”
Mingyu said nothing more. Instead, he carefully removed the bandage. Pain spread when the disinfectant touched the wound. I clenched my teeth.
For a while, the only sounds in the room were our breathing and the rustle of gauze.
When he finished treating me, Mingyu wrapped a fresh bandage around my stomach.
“You can’t push yourself for a few days.”
“There’s something I want to ask you.”
Mingyu’s hands stopped.
He slowly raised his head.
“I figured you would.”
I sat at the edge of the bed and looked at him.
“Tell me everything you saw that night.”
“I already told you.”
“Again.”
My voice dropped without me realizing it.
“Calmly. Don’t leave anything out.”
Mingyu sighed. He sat in a chair and laced his fingers together. He closed his eyes for a while, as if organizing his memories.
“You called me at night. At first, I thought it was a prank call. I couldn’t hear anything, just the sound of rain. Then I heard you breathing, and you said something very quietly.”
“What did I say?”
Mingyu looked at me.
“Save me.”
My fingertips turned cold.
“What happened next?”
“Your location came through, so I went. You’d turned on location sharing with me through your contacts a long time ago. Probably by accident. Anyway, I saw it and went.”
I didn’t remember that.
“When I arrived, you were collapsed on the ground. You were barely conscious, and you were bleeding from your stomach. There was a man collapsed nearby.”
“Oh Sejun.”
“I didn’t know his name then.”
“What condition was he in?”
Mingyu bit his lip.
“He wasn’t moving.”
“Did you check?”
“I checked his pulse.”
His voice grew quieter.
“There wasn’t one.”
The room fell silent.
I slowly exhaled.
“What about the knife?”
Mingyu’s eyes wavered.
“What?”
“The knife. He stabbed me. He definitely had a knife.”
“I didn’t see one.”
“Think carefully.”
“There wasn’t one.”
“Mingyu.”
“I said there wasn’t one.”
Mingyu’s voice rose slightly too.
“I was out of my mind. You were bleeding, it was raining, and the man was dead. How much could I have seen? I got you up first because I was afraid you were going to die. I didn’t see any knife.”
I held my head in my hands.
There wasn’t one.
The knife had already been gone when Mingyu arrived.
Then Mingyu hadn’t taken it.
I hadn’t taken it either. At least, not according to my memory. But it wasn’t at the scene, and Mingyu hadn’t seen it.
Then who had?
Who had taken the knife?
“Doyoon.”
Mingyu called to me carefully.
I didn’t answer.
My thoughts spun wildly. An accomplice of Oh Sejun’s. Someone who had watched the scene. Or maybe I had hidden it myself during the time I couldn’t remember. That possibility frightened me the most.
If I had really taken the knife.
And then forgotten doing it.
How much could I trust?
If I couldn’t trust my memories, my hands, or the voice left inside me.
What was I supposed to hold on to and live by?
“Why did you help me?”
Another question suddenly came out of my mouth.
Mingyu looked at me.
“What?”
“Why did you help me?”
I raised my head.
“We barely kept in touch. We hadn’t properly seen each other since that day. So why did you take me to the hospital? Why didn’t you ask me anything? Why didn’t you call the police?”
Mingyu said nothing for a long time.
The sound of a car passing outside came through the window. The air in the room sank heavily around us.
Mingyu spoke slowly.
“Because that’s who you were to me.”
“What does that mean?”
“The person who saved me.”
I almost laughed.
Salvation.
That word again.
I had never saved anyone. That day, I pushed a child, and the child died. Mingyu had survived only because of that death. I couldn’t call that salvation.
“I didn’t save you.”
“That’s how I remember it.”
Mingyu looked straight at me.
“That day behind the school, I really wanted to die. I was beaten every day, had my money stolen, and everyone pretended not to know. The teachers, the other kids—they all knew and walked past me. But you stopped.”
I couldn’t say anything.
“I don’t know what you were feeling when you did it. I still don’t know whether you were really trying to save me or whether you were just angry at that kid. But to me, you were my salvation that day.”
Mingyu’s voice trembled slightly.
“When you said save me over the phone yesterday, you sounded like me.”
I stopped breathing.
“The voice of someone who thinks no one is coming.”
Mingyu stood up.
“So I went. That’s all.”
I couldn’t stop him.
Mingyu picked up his bag. He paused at the door and spoke to me.
“Call me immediately if the wound opens. And don’t stay alone for too long for a while.”
“Mingyu.”
He turned around.
“Aren’t you afraid of me?”
Mingyu didn’t answer.
The silence stretched.
In the end, he said very quietly,
“I am.”
I lowered my gaze.
“But I hate the thought of you dying even more.”
With those words, Mingyu left.
When the door closed, the apartment fell silent in an instant.
I sat there for a long time. The faint smell of disinfectant Mingyu had left behind lingered in the room. The pain in my abdomen had eased a little, but my mind was louder than ever.
Where had the knife gone?
Who had taken it?
Why hadn’t that person called the police?
Had they helped me?
Or.
Were they watching me?
Then my phone rang.
A short notification chime.
I slowly turned on the screen.
An unknown number.
There was only one photograph in the message.
I stopped breathing.
The photograph showed a knife.
A wet knife.
Dark, hardened traces stained the handle, and raindrops clung to the tip of the blade. It was the exact knife Oh Sejun had pulled on me that night.
There was no other message.
No explanation.
No threat, demand, or name.
Just one photograph.
With trembling hands, I zoomed in on the screen. The background was dark. I couldn’t tell whether it was a floor or a desk. But the knife was clear. Too clear. The cold sensation returned, as if the blade were piercing my abdomen again.
An unknown number.
An unknown person.
But one fact was certain.
Someone had been there that night.
Someone had taken the knife.
And now, that someone knew me.
My face faintly reflected across the phone screen. A pale face. Shaking eyes. A person holding his breath and staring into the darkness.
My father appeared behind me.
He looked down at the photograph over my shoulder and smiled.
“Look.”
I closed my eyes.
“You weren’t alone.”
His voice settled sweetly around me.
“Aren’t you curious now?”
I slowly opened my eyes.
The blade in the photograph glinted.
My father whispered.
“Whether that person saved you.”
My fingertips trembled.
“Or.”
My phone rang again.
Another message had arrived.
This time, too, it was from an unknown number.
I stared down at the screen, holding my breath.
This time, it wasn’t a photograph.
It was a single short sentence.
[Kim Doyoon, long time no see.]
At that moment, the world stopped completely.
Not my new name.
The name I believed I had given up.
The name erased from documents, removed from my school, and never to be spoken by anyone again.
Kim Doyoon.
There was still someone who knew that name.