TAEHYUNG

The drive to my parents' house had been uneventful. The city stretched out before me like a maze of concrete, buildings, and lights that all seemed to blend together after a while. My mother had fallen sick again—nothing too serious, just a lingering cold that had kept her in bed for a few days—but I knew how much she hated feeling weak, so I went to check on her. My father, as always, had buried himself in work, which meant the task of making sure my mother was okay fell to me.

After I spent a few hours there, making sure she had everything she needed, I said my goodbyes and headed back to my apartment. I didn't want to linger any longer than necessary—especially with everything going on with the case. I had to meet with Y/n later tonight to go over some new developments, but I figured I'd stop by the convenience store near my apartment first. It wasn't far, and I needed to grab a few things.

I pulled into the parking lot and parked my car, my mind distracted by the endless parade of thoughts about the Jongsuk case. There were still too many loose ends, and I felt like I was grasping at straws. Everything about the case felt wrong—like there was something I wasn't seeing, something hidden beneath the surface. And Y/n... She was so determined to prove Jongsuk's innocence, even when all the evidence pointed to him being guilty. I didn't understand it, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness toward her, especially after everything that had happened.

Walking into the store, I grabbed a basket and began to make my way down the aisles. I was lost in thought, picking up random items without really thinking about it, when something caught my eye.

Through the glass wall of the store, just outside, I saw a figure that made my blood run cold.

It was him.

It was Jongsuk.

My heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, I froze in place. I knew it was him—there was no mistaking the way he walked, the way he carried himself. I had seen him enough times in the cell, in the courtroom, to recognize him anywhere. But... it didn't make sense.

Jongsuk was supposed to be locked up. He was supposed to be in his cell, awaiting trial, just like he had been for weeks. How could he be here, standing outside the store like some kind of ghost?

My instincts kicked in immediately. I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. I dropped the items in my hands and rushed out of the store, pushing through the door with urgency.

When I reached the parking lot, I scanned the area, my eyes darting from one end to the other. The figure I had seen was already gone.

I cursed under my breath, but I wasn't about to give up that easily. I ran toward the street, looking around for any sign of him. Maybe it wasn't him after all. Maybe I had just seen someone who looked like him.

But as I turned the corner, I saw it—the same figure moving quickly in the distance, disappearing into the shadows. There was no mistaking the posture, the way he held his body with that tense, almost rigid manner.

I took off after him, my pace quickening as I sprinted down the street. I called out to him, but he didn't stop. He only ran faster, disappearing further into the night.

"Shit!" I cursed, reaching for my phone as I ran. I needed answers, and I needed them now. I had to make sure I wasn't losing my mind.

I dialed Jungkook's number, my pulse pounding in my ears. The phone rang for a few seconds before he answered, sounding groggy but alert.

"Taehyung?" Jungkook's voice came through, still sleepy. "What's up?"

"Is Jongsuk still in his cell?" I didn't waste time with small talk. My voice was sharp, urgent.

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then Jungkook's voice came back, more awake now. "Yeah. He's still in his cell. Why?"

I felt a chill run down my spine.

"I just saw someone who looked exactly like him," I said, my voice low, trying to make sense of what I had just witnessed. "He was outside the convenience store near my apartment. I thought it was Jongsuk, but now I'm not so sure."

Jungkook was silent for a moment, and I could hear the sound of him shifting around, probably checking some kind of record. "Wait," he finally said. "You're sure it was him? You saw him clearly?"

"I saw him clearly," I said. "No mistake. It was him. The way he walked, the way he looked—it was unmistakable. But how is that possible? How could he be out there if he's locked up?"

I could hear Jungkook muttering something to himself on the other end, and then he spoke again, his tone serious. "Hold on. I'll double-check with the guards. Stay where you are."

I stopped in my tracks, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps as I waited for Jungkook's update. My mind was racing. How could someone look so much like Jongsuk and be out there in the streets when the real Jongsuk was still in his cell? Was there another person who looked like him? A twin? An imposter? Or was it possible that someone had broken him out?

My phone buzzed in my hand, pulling me from my thoughts. It was Jungkook again.

"Taehyung," he said quickly, his voice tense. "Jongsuk is in his cell. He's still locked up. No one's seen him leave."

My stomach dropped.

That meant the person I had seen wasn't Jongsuk. It was someone who looked exactly like him. But who?

"Shit," I muttered, trying to steady my breathing. "You're sure? There's no way someone could have switched places with him? No one's trying to pull something?"

Jungkook was silent for a moment before answering, his voice careful. "No one's pulled anything like that so far. The guards are all accounted for. There's no way Jongsuk's out, and there's no record of anyone getting in or out of the cell."

I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated and confused. "Then who the hell was that guy I just saw? He looked exactly like Jongsuk. I'm not imagining this."

"I don't know, Taehyung," Jungkook said, his voice tight. "But be careful. Someone's clearly trying to mess with you. And it's not just the case anymore—it's something bigger. You need to figure out what's going on."

I swallowed hard, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Someone had to be behind this. Someone was orchestrating this game, using Jongsuk's name and face as a distraction. But for what purpose? And why now?

I glanced around the quiet street, the feeling of unease creeping up my spine. Whoever this was—whether it was a look-alike or something more sinister—was one step ahead of me. And I had no idea what they were planning.

"I'm going back to my apartment," I said, my mind already racing. "Keep me posted, Jungkook. I need to figure this out. And be on high alert."

I hung up the phone and made my way back to my car, the night suddenly feeling a lot darker than it had just moments before.

Whoever was pulling the strings in this case—whoever was using Jongsuk as a pawn—was playing a dangerous game.

And I had no idea just how deep this rabbit hole went.

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The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting thin, slanted shadows across my desk. I ran my hand over my face, trying to shake off the exhaustion from the previous night. The events from yesterday kept replaying in my mind, the image of that man—the one who looked exactly like Jongsuk—haunting me. I couldn't stop thinking about it. The more I thought about it, the more questions piled up, and none of the answers seemed to make sense.

I had called Y/n earlier, asking her to meet me at the office. I needed to talk to her about what I saw. Maybe I was jumping to conclusions, maybe I was imagining things, but something inside me told me that this was too big to ignore.

When she walked into the cabin, her presence was a mix of professionalism and weariness. She looked tired—likely from all the pressure she was under with Jongsuk's case—but she was sharp, her mind always working, always thinking a step ahead. I could tell she was eager to hear what I had to say, but as soon as I started talking, her expression shifted from curiosity to doubt.

I leaned back in my chair, folding my arms across my chest, trying to hide the frustration that was beginning to build up. "Y/n, I saw him. I saw someone who looked exactly like Jongsuk."

She paused, looking at me like I was about to deliver some kind of bizarre confession. Then, she blinked and slowly shook her head. "Taehyung, you must be mistaken. Maybe you were just really tired, or maybe you were seeing things. It's not like you to let your emotions cloud your judgment."

I scoffed, incredulous at her reaction. Was she really doubting me like this? Was she seriously brushing off what I had seen with my own eyes? "What the hell, Y/n? What do you mean I'm mistaken? I'm a police officer, for god's sake. I know what I saw. I've dealt with criminals, witnesses, and all kinds of situations. I'm not someone who just gets confused by a face in a crowd!" My voice rose slightly, a sharp edge to it now.

She didn't flinch. Her eyes remained calm, but I could see the gears turning in her mind. She was always the level-headed one between us. Even when I was frustrated, she stayed composed.

"I'm not saying you're wrong, Taehyung," she said, her voice steady now, "But you've been under a lot of stress lately, with everything happening with the case and with—" She paused, clearly choosing her words carefully, "...with the threats you've been receiving. Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you."

But I wasn't having any of it. I leaned forward, my hands pressing onto the desk, the weight of my words sinking in. "Y/n, I saw him clearly. He looked exactly like Jongsuk, from his posture to the way he walked. It was him, or at least it was someone who wanted me to think it was him."

She fell silent for a moment, considering my words. Her brows furrowed as she absorbed the information, but I could tell she was struggling to make sense of it, just like I had been. She shook her head slowly, her lips pressed together in thought, and then, as if a thought finally struck her, her expression shifted, becoming more serious.

"What if..." she started, her voice quieter now, "What if he's not Jongsuk? What if someone is trying to frame him? What if the killer is out there, pretending to be Jongsuk to distract us, to mislead everyone into thinking he's the one who murdered Sunjae?"

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.

I stared at her, blinking rapidly as I processed what she was suggesting. The thought hadn't even crossed my mind until she said it. The killer—the real killer—could be out there, hiding in plain sight, using Jongsuk's identity as a cover. What if the person I had seen was the murderer, not Jongsuk?

It made so much sense. We'd already established that Jongsuk's alibi was shaky, but what if that wasn't the truth at all? What if the real killer had framed him, setting him up as the fall guy while they went on living their life?

I leaned back in my chair, the weight of Y/n's words hanging heavy in the air. "That... That could be it, couldn't it?" I said, my voice quiet. The idea felt like a new twist in the case—one I hadn't seen coming. "What if the person I saw yesterday isn't Jongsuk, but the killer in disguise? Someone who knows how to manipulate the system, someone who knows how to play with our perception of reality?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes flashing with understanding. "Exactly. If the killer is out there walking around, pretending to be Jongsuk, then they could be setting up all the pieces to make it look like he's guilty. They could have been watching us the entire time, manipulating the evidence, throwing off our investigation. Maybe the killer's trying to keep Jongsuk locked up because they know that if Jongsuk is out, they might be caught."

I stood up, running a hand through my hair, my mind racing. The more I thought about it, the more everything seemed to line up. This case wasn't as straightforward as we thought. We weren't just dealing with a murder mystery—we were dealing with someone who was capable of orchestrating an elaborate deception, someone with the skill and knowledge to make all of this seem like a simple, tragic case.

"Then we need to find out who that person really was," I said, my tone hardening. "And we need to figure out if they have anything to do with Sunjae's murder."

Y/n's expression was intense now, her gaze locked on me as she nodded in agreement. "We can't let this slide. If Jongsuk is innocent, then we need to prove it. And we need to find the real killer before they get away with it."

I turned away, pacing for a moment as the weight of our new theory settled in. This was no longer just about clearing Jongsuk's name. We were up against someone who was capable of hiding in plain sight, someone who could be manipulating the entire investigation. And if we didn't act quickly, they might slip through our fingers.

"You've got a point," I muttered, more to myself than to Y/n. "Whoever this person is—if they're the killer—they're playing a dangerous game. And we can't let them win."

Y/n's gaze softened as she met my eyes. "We'll figure it out, Taehyung. We've got three weeks. We're not going to waste any more time. We'll find the truth, no matter what it takes."

I nodded, feeling a renewed sense of determination settle in my chest. The pieces were falling into place, but there were still so many unknowns. I had no idea who was behind this—or why they would go to such lengths to frame Jongsuk—but I knew one thing for sure.

Whoever they were, they wouldn't get away with it. Not on my watch.

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