Taeko's Pov:

I hadn't slept a wink. My mind had been racing all night, torn between anxiety over the case and memories of Taehyung. When morning came, I dragged my exhausted body to the station, forcing myself to push through the haze of fatigue.

As soon as I entered, the familiar hum of the station hit me, but what immediately caught my eye was Officer Yun, sitting near his desk. His face was twisted with frustration, his eyes darting toward me when I walked in.

I felt a wave of anger flare up, remembering what Jisoo had told me. Yun had crossed the line, and now I was left to pick up the pieces. I kept my face neutral as I walked past him, but I could feel his gaze following me, heavy with unspoken words.

Before I could reach my desk, his voice cut through the noise of the station, sharp and defensive. "Yah, Yuki Onna."

The old nickname hit me like a punch to the gut, dragging me back to a time I thought I'd left behind. Memories of being taunted as a child, of feeling like an outsider because of my mixed heritage, rushed to the surface. It stung hearing it from a fellow officer, someone who should know better.

I stopped in my tracks, my shoulders moving. Slowly, I turned to face Yun, my eyes narrowing. His smug expression told me he knew exactly what he was doing—trying to get under my skin, trying to rattle me.

"Don't call me that," I said. My voice was cold and firm. I wasn't a scared kid anymore, and I wasn't going to let him get to me.

Yun shrugged, feigning innocence. "Just saying what everyone's thinking," he muttered, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. I couldn't afford to lose control, not now. "You should focus on doing your job right, Yun-shii, instead of taking cheap shots," I said quietly, the edge in my voice unmistakable.

I turned away from him without waiting for a response and made my way to my desk. As much as his words stung, I had bigger things to worry about. This case—Taehyung—needed my full attention, and I wasn't going to let anyone distract me from that.

"Officer Jin," a voice called out, interrupting my thoughts. I looked up to see a fellow officer standing nearby, his expression neutral but a bit tense. "Officer Park is wants to meet you."

I nodded, gathering myself. It was time.

"Thanks," I replied, standing up from my desk. My heart raced a little, but I forced myself to stay composed as I made my way toward Officer Park's office. This was the moment I had been waiting for since Jisoo told me they were assigning the case to me.

As I walked through the station, I could feel a few eyes on me, but I kept my focus ahead, mentally preparing myself for whatever awaited me in that office.

"Here is the information on Taehyung, as far as we've collected," he said, handing me a file. "There isn't much bad reputation associated with him... but," he paused, his eyes meeting mine with a heavy seriousness, "every piece of evidence is pointing at him, Taeko. Handle this carefully."

I nodded silently, feeling the weight of his words. I took the file and followed Officer Park to the monitoring room, where we could see into the interrogation room through the large two-way mirror. My breath caught as I stared at Taehyung sitting inside, his head slightly bowed. I couldn't read his expression.

The boy I once knew, the one who had always stood by me through everything, was now sitting there like a stranger. His presence felt distant, and yet it pulled at something deep inside me.

Jisoo stood next to me, watching my reaction closely. "Take your time," he said quietly. "I know this isn't easy."

I nodded again, trying to steady myself. Taehyung might be sitting behind that glass, but I needed to push past the memories—past the friendship—and find the truth.

As I entered the interrogation room, Taehyung slowly lifted his head. His left cheek was bruised, a stark reminder of what had happened during yesterday's interrogation. His eyes, still cold and empty, met mine. Yet, beneath that familiar almond-brown gaze, there was something else—something I couldn't quite place.

No, Taeko. He's not the friend you used to know anymore. I kept reminding myself as I forced my emotions down, focusing on the job at hand. Taehyung was the accused now, not the boy who had once defended me on the playground. I had to stay professional and detached. I couldn't let anything slip. This case—this opportunity—was crucial for my career, for my future. And until I knew the truth, I had to approach it with logic and practicality, not sentiment.

I pulled the chair back and sat down, the noise of metal scraping against the floor echoing slightly in the small room. Placing the folder on the table between us, I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. My throat was dry, and I cleared it before speaking.

"Kim Taehyung," I began; the name felt foreign on my tongue after so many years. It felt strange, almost wrong, to address him like this. I pushed those thoughts aside, forcing myself to focus. I didn't lift my head fully, but I let my eyes flick up to meet his.

He was staring at me intently, and then, unexpectedly, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Why was that? I wondered, my brow furrowing slightly. The smirk seemed out of place—like he found something amusing in this twisted situation. Was he mocking me? Or was it something else? My mind raced with questions, but I had to stay composed. I couldn't afford to be rattled, not now.

"Why are you smiling, Taehyung-shii?" I asked, keeping my voice steady, though the confusion bubbled just beneath the surface. His expression made me uneasy, but I couldn't let him see that.

Taehyung tilted his head slightly, the smirk never leaving his face. "It's just... strange, isn't it?" he said, his voice low, almost casual. "Seeing you here like this after all these years. It's funny how things turn out."

Taehyung tilted his head slightly, the smirk still lingering on his lips. "It's just... strange, isn't it?" He said, his voice low, almost casual. "Seeing you here like this after all these years. It's funny how things turn out."

I blinked, caught off guard by the casualness of his words, despite the gravity of the situation. My brows furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry?" I asked, my voice sharper than intended. I was trying to maintain control, but the familiarity in his tone felt jarring.

Taehyung's gaze never left mine. "I just mean... who would've thought, right?" he continued, leaning back slightly in his chair. "You, sitting across from me like this—an officer, interrogating me. Of all people."

I tried to push down the surge of emotions that rose within me. His words twisted something inside, tugging at old memories I didn't want to revisit. But I had to stay focused. This wasn't about us. This was about solving a murder.

"This isn't a reunion, Taehyung," I said firmly, keeping my tone steady. "This is an investigation, and I need you to take it seriously. Tell me what happened that night."

The smirk on his face faltered slightly, but he didn't answer right away. Instead, he studied me for a long moment, as if searching for something in my expression. Whatever he was looking for, I wasn't going to give it to him. Not now.

He sighed softly, leaning forward, the playful tone gone, replaced by something heavier, something more raw. "You really think I did this, Taeko?" he asked, his voice quieter now, more serious. His question hung in the air between us, a heavy weight that I didn't know how to carry.

I couldn't respond immediately. I couldn't bring myself to say anything at all.

Fuck it, I thought. There was no point in pretending we didn't have a past. We were friends once—close friends—but now we are strangers. He is the accused, and I'm the police officer interrogating him. There is that separation clear. There is no use of hiding, or it would come as a threat to my job as long as it's past. If I think practically, there is no need to be afraid of it.

But something didn't add up. Yesterday, Taehyung hadn't said a word—completely shut down during the interrogation. And yet now, here he was, speaking to me as if we were picking up a casual conversation from where we left off years ago. 

What was he playing at? Why the sudden change? What was he trying to do?

I clenched my fists beneath the table, trying to steady my emotions. I'm sorry, Jisoo, I thought, the weight of the situation bearing down on me. We can't keep this between us anymore. The past is going to come to light, whether we like it or not.

I leaned forward slightly, my voice low but firm. "Taehyung," I said, letting the formality slip for just a moment, "this isn't just about us. There are things happening here that go beyond our past. I need you to be straight with me. Why didn't you speak yesterday, and why are you acting like this now?"

He looked at me for a long moment, the smirk gone. His eyes were unreadable, a mix of exhaustion and something deeper—something I couldn't quite figure out. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the familiar gesture making him look momentarily vulnerable.

"Maybe," he said quietly, "I didn't want to say anything because... no one would believe me anyway. And maybe seeing you... I don't know. It's different. Makes me feel like I have a chance."

A chance? A chance at what? Clearing his name, or something else? I wasn't sure, but I knew this was far from over. I had to keep digging.

Taehyung Pov:

Sitting in that cold room, staring at her—Taeko—he felt something shift inside him. It had been years since he'd last seen her, and yet here she was, on the other side of the table, wearing a police badge and looking at him like he was just another case to crack. The weight of the situation pressed down on him, but at the same time, it almost felt surreal. Who would have thought their paths would cross again like this?

He could see the tension in her and the way she tried to stay professional and detached. But he knew her better than that. She was struggling, caught between the past they shared and the reality of the situation. He had tried to keep quiet yesterday, tried to block everything out, but seeing her again—her of all people—made him think that maybe there was still a chance.

She looked at him, her eyes questioning. "Why didn't you speak yesterday, and why are you acting like this now?" she asked, her voice low, but there was an edge to it. She was searching for answers—answers he wasn't sure he had.

Why didn't he speak? Because no one would have believed him anyway. He'd been dragged into this mess, thrown into a nightmare, and nothing he said would've made a difference. The evidence was stacked against him, and people like Yun didn't care about the truth—they just wanted someone to blame.

But now, with Taeko sitting across from him, it felt different. She wasn't just anyone. She was Taeko. The same girl he used to protect, the one who knew him better than anyone else ever did. Maybe that was why he found himself speaking now—because deep down, he wanted her to believe him.

He leaned back in his chair, looking away for a moment, the words weighing heavily on his tongue. "Maybe," he started slowly, "I didn't say anything because I knew no one would listen. But seeing you here now... I don't know. It makes me feel like I still have a chance. A chance for someone to believe me."

He glanced at her, wondering what she was thinking. Did she still see me as the boy she once knew, or was I just another suspect to her now? The uncertainty gnawed at him, but he knew one thing for sure—if anyone could see the truth, it was her. He just had to hope that she still believed in him, even if he wasn't sure he believed in himself anymore.

"Chance?" She asked, her voice soft but edged with something he couldn't quite place—skepticism, maybe, or was it hesitation? He couldn't tell.

He met her eyes again, trying to read her like he used to. But it wasn't the same. There was distance between them now, an invisible wall built by time and circumstance. Still, he pressed on, needing her to understand even though he wasn't sure if she could or if she would even want to.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his voice almost wavering. "A chance for someone to see me, to believe that I didn't do this. You know me, Taeko... or at least you used to. You know I'm not capable of something like this."

She didn't say anything right away. Her eyes studied him, searching for something—truth, maybe, or a crack in his words. He could feel the tension building between them, thick and suffocating. She was caught between their past friendship and her duty, and he knew she didn't want to let herself fall into the trap of seeing him as that boy she once knew.

He didn't blame her. He didn't know who he was anymore either. Everything in his life had spiraled so far out of control, and now all he could do was sit here, hoping that she would believe him. If there was anyone in this world who might, it would be her.

But he could see it in her eyes—the conflict. She was struggling just as much as he was. And for a moment, he wondered if he was being selfish by wanting her to believe in him when everything around them screamed otherwise.

A sigh escaped from her partially dry lips, breaking the tense silence between them. "Mr. Kim Taehyung," she began, her voice steady and professional, "where were you yesterday before going to Ms. Yoo Hana's apartment?"

Hearing the way she addressed him stung, but he understood. This was no longer personal—this was her doing her job. He swallowed hard, trying to focus. She wasn't Taeko, his childhood friend, in this moment. She was Officer Jin, and he needed to answer her.

"I was at work," Taehyung replied, his voice low but firm. "I stayed late to finish up some designs. Around 9 p.m., I got a call from manager Yoo. She sounded... panicked. She asked me to come over right away."

He paused, the memory of that phone call flashing through his mind. "When I got there, her door was unlocked. I went in," he paused as the incident is still lingering now in front of his eyes.

that night

"Taehyung-shi, can you come to my apartment? There's something I need to say to you." Hana's voice had wavered, barely above a whisper, filled with an urgency that instantly set him on edge.

"Yes, Bujang-nim," he had replied without hesitation, not even bothering to gather his things before rushing out of the office. His mind had raced with possibilities—had something happened at work? Was she in trouble? He didn't know, but the fear in her voice pushed him to move faster.

When he arrived at her apartment, Taehyung knocked on the door, calling out to let her know he was there. "It's me, Taehyung," he had said, his voice steady despite the anxiety gnawing at him.

The door opened just a crack, and he could see Hana's silhouette standing behind it. But as soon as the door began to creak open wider, everything went blank—the power cut out suddenly, and the hallway was plunged into darkness. A cold shiver ran down his spine, the eeriness of the situation sending alarms through his body.

"Bujang-nim?" he called out, stepping inside cautiously. He could barely make out the shapes around him, but he could feel the weight of the silence pressing in on him. The apartment seemed unnaturally still, the air thick with tension.

Then, just as he reached out to find his way, something shifted. A noise from somewhere deeper in the apartment—soft, almost imperceptible—had him freezing in place. He opened his mouth to call her name again, but the words stuck in his throat, swallowed by the oppressive darkness. 

Then A loud scream more like a death scream.

Flash back ends

But then Taeko's voice cut through the fog of his thoughts, pulling him abruptly back into the present.

"Taehyung-shi," she called softly, her tone bringing him back to the harsh reality of the interrogation room. He blinked, wetting his dry lips, trying to push the lingering memory away. His eyes focused on her face, her expression unreadable, yet there was something in her gaze—concern, maybe? Or was he just imagining it?

She was waiting for him to speak, but the words stuck in his throat again, just like they had that night. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay grounded. This wasn't the time to fall apart.

"I... I heard her scream," he finally said, his voice quieter now, the tension from yesterday's night creeping into his words. "I don't understand what was happening  And then..." He trailed off, the words catching in his throat as the memory surged forward—Hana's body sprawled on the floor, blood splattering across the room, staining him. His gaze flickered down at the white shirt he still wore, now dried and crumpled with patches of red. He could still feel the warmth of it, the sticky wetness of the blood clinging to him.

"I found her lying there... already gone," he continued, his voice barely a whisper. "The blood... it was everywhere. I tried to help, but..." He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. "It was too late."

The room fell into a heavy silence as Taehyung stared down at his hands, his fingers still trembling slightly. He clenched his fists, as if trying to suppress the memory, trying to block it out.

"I don't know who did it," he said, lifting his gaze back to Taeko. His eyes were pleading, a mix of desperation and exhaustion. "But it wasn't me, Officer Jin. I swear... it wasn't me."

Taeko's Pov

The interrogation continued as I asked more questions, following the usual protocol for a crime investigation. Taehyung, for his part, cooperated, answering as best as he could. He tried to explain and piece together what happened that night, though his account was broken and tense.

There were moments where frustration slipped through—he scoffed or clicking his tounge, the stress of it all wearing him down. He was trying, trying to convince me he wasn't the one who killed Hana, trying to prove his innocence. Every now and then, his eyes would flicker with desperation, a look I hadn't seen in him before. It unnerved me, but I couldn't let it show.

Each time he answered, there was this underlying urgency in his voice, as if he was afraid I wouldn't believe him. And the truth was, I wasn't sure what to believe. The evidence pointed to him, but sitting there in front of me, I couldn't help but question everything.

He wasn't just another suspect, and that made this all the more difficult.

"Okay," I said after a long pause. I glanced down at my notes, trying to stay composed, trying to keep the wall up between us. "Let's go over it one more time. You say you went to her apartment after receiving a call from her. What exactly did she say to you?"

Taehyung sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. "She said she needed to talk to me... that there was something important I needed to know."

"And did she mention what it was?"

"No," he said, his voice tired but steady. "She never got the chance."

I nodded, writing down his response. It wasn't much to go on, but I had to push forward. Officer Jin, I reminded myself again, trying to distance myself from the Taeko who had once known him. For now, I needed to focus on facts, on the case, and leave the past where it belonged.

 "For now, this is the end of today's interrogation," I said, keeping my tone even. I paused for a moment, glancing up at him from my notes. His expression was weary, but there was a small flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps relief that this part was over. I hesitated before continuing, knowing this next question might push him further into the reality of the situation.

"Do you have a lawyer to defend you?" I asked, my voice softening slightly. It was hard to avoid the feeling that I was crossing a line, bringing him face to face with the seriousness of what lay ahead.

Taehyung's eyes darkened momentarily for the question I asked. He swallowed hard before shaking his head. "No," he said quietly, his voice almost defeated. "I... haven't thought that far ahead yet."

I nodded, my heart sinking slightly. I wanted to offer some comfort, some shred of hope, but I knew that wasn't my role here. Instead, I just closed the folder and stood up, maintaining the professionalism I had worked so hard to hold onto.

"I suggest you find one soon, Taehyung-shii," I said, glancing back at him one last time before heading toward the door. "It's important that you have someone by your side."

Steeling myself, I stood up from my chair and added firmly, "As you are the main suspect now."

Without looking back at Taehyung, I walked out of the room, keeping my face neutral and my emotions locked away. The moment I stepped into the hallway, Jisoo was there, grinning as he placed a hand on my shoulder. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

"You did well, Jin!" he said, clearly pleased with how I handled the interrogation.

I forced a small smile, but it felt bitter. "I see," I replied, my voice flat as I walked past him and made my way toward my desk. Interrogation with Taehyung lingering in my mind.

"Oh, come on, Officer Jin!" Jisoo called out, following close behind me. His tone was light, like he was trying to lift the mood, but it wasn't working. Jisoo had this habit of calling me "Taeko" in more personal moments and "Jin" when he was in a serious or good mood. Today, it was "Jin"—which meant he thought I had done something right.

But I wasn't in the mood to celebrate. "What an idiot," I thought to myself, though part of me knew he meant well.

I sat down at my desk, ignoring everything around me. Staring at the notes I made from the interrogation. Should I believe him? If he says he didn't, then who would do that? 

how can I do that with out any solid proof or any visual, wait visual? Then it hit me. CCTV! The building must have cameras.

I turned to Jisoo, who had been standing nearby, glancing curiously at the notes on my desk. "Officer Park," I said, my voice sharper with purpose. His gaze lifted to meet mine, his expression curious.

"Have you got any CCTV footage of the apartment or the whole building?" I asked, leaning forward slightly, my urgency clear.

Jisoo raised a brow, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "We've requested it, but I'm not sure if it's been processed yet. Let me check," he said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his messages.

A sigh escaped Jisoo's lips as he shook his head, his eyes lifting from his phone to meet mine. "I guess we'll have to wait until tomorrow," he said, his tone laced with mild frustration.

"What?!" I snapped, a frown instantly forming on my face. "This is an active investigation, and they're asking for time?" My voice was sharper than I intended, the weight of the case and the lack of progress fueling my irritation.

I scoffed, leaning back in my chair as the absurdity of it sank in. "Unbelievable," I muttered, more to myself than to Jisoo. "We're dealing with a murder investigation, and they can't prioritize sending over crucial footage? This could make or break the case."

Jisoo held up his hands in a calming gesture, trying to diffuse my growing frustration. "I know, I know. Trust me, I've already called twice to push for it. They're claiming the delay is due to technical issues or some nonsense," he explained, though he didn't seem any happier about the situation.

I rubbed my temples, exhaling sharply. Great. More waiting, I thought bitterly. Every delay felt like another step away from the truth, another opportunity for something crucial to slip through our fingers.

"Alright," I said finally, standing up from my chair with purpose. Jisoo tilted his head, frowning as he watched me.

"Where are you going?" he asked, trailing after me with a hint of confusion.

"To the crime scene," I replied curtly.

"What?!" he blurted out, his tone a mix of surprise and concern.

I closed my eyes, heaving a deep sigh before turning back to face him. "To the crime scene," I repeated, more calmly this time. "I want to investigate more, see if we left anything behind. Anything that might help us make sense of this." My tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Jisoo nodded after a moment, though the furrow in his brows didn't completely disappear. "Alright, fair enough," he said. "But why now?"

"Because the more we delay, the more chance there is to miss something important," I said, turning on my heels and heading for the door.

Behind me, I heard him chuckle lightly, and I glanced over my shoulder to see the faintest smirk on his face. "Where did you learn that from?" he asked, his voice carrying a teasing edge.

"From you," I said softly but sincerely, holding his gaze for just a moment before stepping out. It was true. Jisoo had taught me the importance of urgency, of following leads before they went cold. And now, I was going to put that lesson to use.