Night had finally fallen…
As if drawing a curtain over a day that refused to end within.
It had been a long day—heavy with confrontation, weighted by the blame that was spoken and the words that remained trapped in the silence. Soo-hyeon opened the front passenger door and sat beside Min-soo quietly. He didn't speak. But when Min-soo turned to look at him, one glance was enough. It was a look that revealed more than a full confession ever could: a deep-seated fear, an invisible exhaustion, and the slow crumbling of a man's resolve.
Soo-hyeon reached out, resting a steady hand on his shoulder. "There is no other way," he said, his voice low and firm. "You either keep running… or we face this."
Suddenly, Soo-hyeon's phone slipped from his hand. He leaned down to retrieve it, but his fingers froze. He saw something else.
A silver necklace. A man's piece. Dangling from it was a charm—the letter W.
He studied it for a few seconds, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips. "What's this? It seems your taste has changed a bit."
Min-soo's eyes darted toward it—a reaction too sharp to be casual. "It's not mine," he said, his voice wavering. "It must have dropped there."
Soo-hyeon didn't push. He set it down gently. "Alright. It'll stay here then." But his eyes told a different story.
Inside Min-soo's House
The silence here was different. It wasn't the silence of rest; it was the heavy stillness that precedes a storm.
Soo-hyeon spoke with a forced lightness. "I haven't had dinner yet. I'm starving." He added with a grin, "I've missed your cooking."
"Don't you have food at your own place?" Min-soo replied with a trace of coldness.
Soo-hyeon just smiled warmly. Min-soo eventually cracked a dry joke: "Fine. Since you're practically begging, I'll let you have a taste of my cooking."
Min-soo arched an eyebrow. "Beef… with rice?"
"Perfect," Soo-hyeon chirped. "But don't get carried away—I wasn't begging."
Behind the banter, however, Soo-hyeon was observing. He saw the sluggishness in Min-soo's movements. The scattered focus. The hollowness in his eyes.
"You aren't running away from people," Soo-hyeon said quietly. "You're running away from yourself."
The Session
The room was dim. The curtains were drawn tight, and the rhythmic sound of soft rain filled the void. Min-soo sat on the sofa, his tension palpable. This time, Soo-hyeon didn't interrupt his silence. He sat across from him, his voice shifting—calmer, slower, more precise.
"Listen to me carefully, Min-soo. We won't start until I have your consent. Do you want to try?"
Silence. Then, a slight nod.
"Good. If at any point you feel unsafe, we stop everything. Understood?"
"...Yes."
"Alright. Sit comfortably. Plant your feet on the floor… feel their weight. Let your hands relax. Now… breathe. In, slowly… for four seconds. Hold it. Now out, slowly."
He repeated the rhythm with him. Once, twice, three times.
"Don't try to force yourself to be calm. Just allow your body to settle. Listen to the rain. Don't think about it; just let it be there."
Min-soo's breathing began to steady.
"Now, we're going to do something simple. We won't go straight to the pain. We'll start in a safe place." Soo-hyeon paused. "The first moment you felt… accepted."
Min-soo's features flinched.
"Let the image come to you. Don't go chasing it."
Min-soo whispered, "...Hee-me."
"Good. Stay there. What do you see?"
"Her smile."
"What do you feel?"
A long silence. Then: "Warmth. Acceptance. Safety."
"Hold onto that feeling. That is your safe harbor."
Soo-hyeon waited until Min-soo's breathing was fully regulated.
"Now… we take one step forward. Only one. There is a fog, isn't there?"
"...Yes."
"Don't try to push through it. The fog isn't an enemy; it's a shield. What do you smell?"
Min-soo froze. "...Something foul."
"Describe it without resisting."
"Iron… rust… garbage."
"Good. You're doing well." Min-soo's pulse began to quicken. "Look around. What do you see?"
"...A child."
"Don't get too close. Just observe. Describe him."
"Thin… torn clothes… empty eyes."
"Does he look afraid?"
Silence. "...No. He looks… used to it."
Soo-hyeon went quiet for a second, then spoke even softer. "That's important. Keep going. What is he doing?"
"...Scavenging through the trash."
"Is there anything on his body?"
Min-soo shuddered. "Blood. So much blood."
"Don't pull away. You're just noticing. What happens now?"
"A car… a woman… her heels clicking on the pavement."
"Can you see her face?"
"...No."
"That's okay."
Min-soo's breathing suddenly turned into a series of gasps. "He's here. He appeared."
"Who?"
"The bird."
"Is it close?"
"...It's everywhere."
"Alright. Don't try to look at it. Just listen. What is it saying?"
In a trembling voice, Min-soo whispered: "Are you… the criminal, or the victim?"
Soo-hyeon fell silent. Then, with absolute stillness, he said, "Don't answer that now. That question isn't for you yet."
Min-soo's body began to spasm.
"We're stopping." Soo-hyeon called it immediately. He moved closer, placing a firm hand on Min-soo's shoulder. "You're here. In this room. With me. Look around. Tell me three things you see."
Min-soo struggled for air. "The bed… the light… you."
"Good. Come back to me."
Gradually, he returned. But he wasn't the same man as before. Because something… something had finally begun to crack open.