Chapter 25

Se-woong clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “That seems less likely. Given the difference in stature, the deceased probably couldn’t squeeze into 330’s clothes. It’s merely a working hypothesis, so just keep it in mind during the interrogation.”

Shin gave a slow, measured nod of acknowledgment, absorbing the tactical point.

Working together was not without its risks, as personal entanglements could bleed into professional duties, yet for Se-woong and Shin, the advantages had always outweighed the pitfalls. It had been that way ever since their academy days. Whenever a problem arose that required joint solving, they would argue ferociously, only to plunge immediately into tackling the issue side by side. Before long, they would forget they had even fought. Even during the years when they served in separate units, discussing each other’s missions had remained their favorite pastime.

Could there ever be a moment of greater peace than when doing what one knows best and loves most?

For both Shin and Se-woong, finding even this modest sliver of peace felt like more than enough for now.

It was just as Shin pinched the screen to magnify a photograph on the tablet for closer inspection that a vibration buzzed from his uniform pocket. Seeing an unsaved number, he tapped the reject button, yet the incoming call promptly rang again. Even as he hesitated over whether he ought to pick it up, the persistent buzzing continued to rattle in his palm.

After a brief moment of deliberation over the ceaseless ringing, Shin finally pressed the answer button.

In a calm, level tone, Shin responded, “Yes?”

“Hello?” came the hesitant greeting over the speaker.

At Shin’s brief reply, a noticeably bright and cheerful voice resonated from the phone speaker.

“Um, we met at Namsan not too long ago…” the caller added softly.

With traffic thoroughly snarled and the car brought to a complete standstill, the caller’s voice echoed clearly throughout the quiet cabin. It was a woman’s voice, sounding timid yet unmistakably buoyant.

The car ahead, which had seemed to crawl forward for a brief second, illuminated its taillights once more.

Shin adjusted the volume on his phone, which had somehow ended up turned all the way up. He recognized who the caller was at once. She was the last woman he had met among the prospective matches his father pushed him to see. Had she been the daughter of a university professor?

She was a choice quintessential to his father: someone not so outstanding as to eclipse their family and son, yet not lacking enough that they would have to give more than they received. If there was a reason she had left a particularly memorable impression among the people he met, it was because she had been unusually forward.

Most people discreetly weighed their options and folded their interest if their counterpart seemed indifferent, but she had made no attempt to conceal her favor from the very moment they first met.

Even so, he had never imagined she would bypass the matchmaker and call him directly like this.

“Were you surprised by my sudden call?” her voice chimed through the speaker. “I kept waiting to hear from you, but I had a feeling you wouldn’t reach out, so I took the initiative instead.”

Shin responded with smooth, practiced courtesy, “Ah, I should have reached out to you separately. Did you get home safely that day?”

His low, gentle tone was more than enough to give any listener the wrong impression. Depending on how one interpreted it, his words could easily sound as though he had intended to call any second, only to be beaten to the punch. In truth, it was not merely how he sounded; his expression was equally deceptive, convincing enough that anyone standing before him would have been thoroughly duped.

Though Se-woong focused all his attention straight ahead to avoid listening to the conversation, the words ‘that day’ made him inadvertently catch his breath. The uneasy inhalation did nothing more than heave his flat chest.

“Yes, I was told about that.”

Whatever the caller had said on the other end, Shin let out a faint, easy laugh.

Aren’t we on duty? Besides, even if readiness has been relaxed, this is still an active state of emergency. Is it really appropriate for an officer to take such a lengthy personal call during working hours? What on earth did he hear about, anyway?

With his elbow propped on the window frame, Se-woong chewed anxiously at the hangnail beside his thumbnail.

“I should have stated my intentions clearly instead of putting you through this trouble. I’m sorry,” Shin said with practiced remorse.

Did he mean he was open to seeing her again and felt sorry for not reaching out first? Since Shin had told his father he would agree to meet her again, Se-woong surmised that was roughly what it meant. Otherwise, there was no way he could speak so tenderly.

The sweet taste of the yogurt drink had vanished without a trace, leaving only the lingering bitterness of the digestive medicine on the tip of his tongue. This was why he despised bitter things. They tormented a person for far too long.

Faintly from the phone drifted the woman’s voice, ‘I’d really love to see you just once more, Shin-ie-ssi—’ Tearing away the hangnail still caught between his teeth, Se-woong abruptly switched on the audio system. The moment the aversion hit him, his hand had moved entirely of its own accord.

As music suddenly blasted from every speaker in the cabin, Shin turned his gaze toward the driver’s seat.

Shin called out, “Se-woong-ah.”

“…I was getting a bit sleepy.” Se-woong kept his eyes fixed straight ahead.

It was an excuse he had barely managed to scrape together. As if rushing to support his pathetic pretext, the radio music blared with chaotic energy. Was this track selected for people fighting off post-lunch drowsiness on a mellow spring afternoon? Regardless of the programmer’s intent, it served brilliantly to shatter the flow of the phone call. It hadn’t been a calculated plot to drown out an unwelcome voice with noise—though, in the end, that was precisely what had happened.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Eun-soo-ssi, but there won’t be any reason for us to meet privately,” Shin stated with unwavering calm. “If something comes up again, please reach out through the matchmaker next time.”

Perhaps owing to the noisy music, Shin concluded the conversation in a persistently gentle tone; confirming the call had ended, he lifted his head and looked at Se-woong. The phone call was over, but the raucous, thunderous music showed no sign of letting up, hurtling furiously toward its crescendo.

Meanwhile, his face pale at what he had just done, Se-woong relentlessly gnawed and tormented the finger that had finally begun to bleed.

“Looks like you’re plenty awake now, so can I turn this off? Listening to this makes me feel like we should gear up for battle,” Shin teased dryly.

“Ah. Uh… yeah.”

Shin chided, “Take your hand away from your mouth. That’s a bizarre way to protest, Captain Cha.”

The cars on the road began inching forward little by little. Although the estimated arrival time on the navigation display had crept up, they still had some time to spare.

Having switched off the audio and restored peace, Shin quietly studied Se-woong’s hand resting on the steering wheel, his gaze settling on the swollen, bloody tip of the thumb.

“Go ahead and ask,” Shin urged.

“About what?” Se-woong kept his eyes fixed on the road.

“Don’t play dumb,” Shin remarked with a knowing smirk. “You’re dying to ask right now.”

Se-woong finally snapped in exasperation, “…Isn’t she the woman from your matchmaking date? Why aren’t you seeing her again?”

“Why bother when I have Min-hyung?”

Even though it was undeniably a tease, Se-woong’s neat features twisted into an unsightly scowl. Shin’s lips, on the other hand, curled upward into a slight smirk. While he disapproved of the newfound habit of biting fingers, Shin found this display rather pleasing in its own way. It was infinitely better than facing a Cha Se-woong who maintained cold distance with an indifferent mask.

“Then why did you go through the trouble of matching every single condition?” Se-woong gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“Match? Match what?” Shin asked, bewildered.

Studying Se-woong with genuine perplexity, Shin’s brow furrowed as his expression shifted into confusion.

“Are you talking about conditions?” Shin shook his head incredulously. “It’s a matchmaking date—why on earth wouldn’t I check her conditions?”

With a weary turn of his head, Se-woong muttered, “That’s not what I meant… Never mind. You’ll handle your own affairs anyway.”

You’ll handle your own affairs.

The faint curve that had graced Shin’s lips flattened back into a straight line. The fleshy swell beneath his eyes twitched almost imperceptibly.

The only reason he had agreed to go on blind dates in the first place was to put Se-woong’s heart at ease. Even after their breakup, Cha Se-woong had desperately wanted reassurance that Shin was living well, just as he always had, and matchmaking dates were an ideal way to demonstrate that. It also helped that his father’s pressure to marry was far from negligible.

His expectation had not been wrong. Se-woong had visibly relaxed at the news that he was going on arranged dates. He had surely felt relieved seeing that, even after ending a long relationship, Shin was not floundering, but carrying on with normal life. That was simply Cha Se-woong’s nature. Regardless of his own torment, his only wish was for Shin to be at ease.

Yet at the same time, Shin knew Se-woong was shaken. There was no way his heart could remain tranquil while Shin was meeting another woman; he was bound to be anxious and fretful. And that was precisely the reaction Shin had hoped for. Deep down, he wanted Se-woong to be unsettled rather than relieved. He couldn’t help it even if someone called him cruel, because watching Se-woong grow on edge time and again was the very thing that brought Shin peace of mind in return.

So up until now, it had been bearable. As long as Se-woong remained like this—playing along with the pretense of being friends while growing pricklish over the women Shin met, unable to hide his jealousy toward an old friend—Shin could feel passably satisfied, even if he couldn’t reach out and touch him.

He was confident he could endure it, even if it took a while. Thinking of the day Cha Se-woong would return completely to his side, Shin even considered this an essential span of time. To Se-woong, who had habitually anticipated an ending even while they were together, Shin wanted to prove that there was no such thing as an end.

Yes. That had undoubtedly been his plan, yet lately, Shin felt a parching thirst burning through his insides. Since it was hardly a matter to be resolved in a day or two, his intention had been to take his time and wait patiently, but…

Having lapsed into silence once more, Se-woong’s gaze was already fixed straight ahead at the road.