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Present time, 2024

San Min didn't understand what she was doing. For the past three years, she had preached that the only times she would have willingly met up with Jun-ho was when he was in a coma.

However, if they never spoke again, absolutely nothing would have changed, and San Min's heart would've had a hole inside forever, desparate to be filled by the only friend that wanted to stay.

Their first conversation after what felt like an eternity had sparked something in her, and she didn't know what it was. San Min had been known as the stubborn one out of her and Ara, their parents would always remind her of it.

Now, they were dead, and it took a bit of time, but Ara had properly taken in the role of older sister. San Min often wondered what would've happened if she didn't succeed.

Maybe her sister would've gotten even worse, and the neighbours had no choice but to send her into rehab themselves. Maybe it would've motivated Ara to take care of her son more, and ditch alcohol as well as smoking. And finally —

God knows what Jun-ho would've done. He was already in spirals over his brother, let alone his best friend. Even though San Min was never by his side much anymore, he still had that reassurance that she was there somewhere.

It was no lie that San Min had thought about whether things would've been better if she died in the games. Of course, the fear would've been there. She probably would've ended up having a heart attack before actually getting shot.

If you didn't know her, you'd probably believe that she was weak for that, considering she was a police officer. But three years ago, as stated by the Salesman as well as her boss, she could hardly do her job. She just relied on Jun-ho.

As she parked up outside of a restaurant that wasn't her favourite for once, she took a deep breath. Every thing is going to be fine, she told herself. In reality, San Min knew every thing was going to be alright. Jun-ho was Jun-ho.

She pulled the door open, expecting him to have already been there, digging into food whilst another plate that wasn't his, sat opposite him. But he wasn't, and that struck her.

San Min's breath caught in her throat. She glanced at every single person that was already there, praying to herself that he'd be sat at one of those tables, unintentionally listening to the rant of an elderly person.

And yet, there was no sign of him. To say she was disappointed would've been an understatement, eventhough she would've never admitted that.

Jun-ho really had changed since before his coma. She took him for a lot of things, but setting his ex best friend up had never come to mind. With nothing but rage boiling up inside of her, she spun around on her heel, desprate to leave and scold herself about being so stupid.

Whilst doing so, San Min bumped into a hard chest, groaning as she fell backwards, right onto the concrete. As if this day couldn't get any worse for her.

Moving her hair out of her eyes, she moved them up towards who the culprit was, ready to taunt him with whatever energy she had in her, but it was someone she knew. Someone she knew very well. Or, did. Jun-ho. Hwang Jun-ho.

The rage inside of her suddenly melted into shock, and she watched as he pulled his hand out in front of her, concern etched across his face.

"I guess I really am an idiot, huh?" he insulted himself, "Take my hand, please." his pleads didn't go unheard since she instantly gripped onto his hand, avoiding eye contact as if her embarrassment would be covered up better.

After she pat down her clothes, San Min cleared her throat, "Thanks." she mumbled quietly, wanting him to hear, but also not wanting him to hear. She confused herself sometimes. "I was going to hold an even bigger grudge with you if you didn't turn up."

Jun-ho snorted, "Well, thank god the drunken driver didn't have any other illegal plans then."

She bit back a laugh, refusing to give him any satisfaction just yet. In all honesty, she was glad he had offered to meet up first, rather than it being her. Humbling him slightly had sounded quite appealing to her.

"Lets head inside, shall we?" he offered, rushing over to hold the door open as a classic gentleman would do. She could feel the regret creeping up on her, but quickly ignored it when she stepped inside, facing the people she had been inspecting earlier, in case they were him.

"I've totally never been in here before." she started sarcastically once they were sat down at their designated table, full plates set in front of them. It was the kind of restaurant where you ordered in advance, and of course, Jun-ho knew exactly what San Min would've ordered.

"I'm sure you haven't. This is an old restaurant, surrounded by couples." he leaned back, a smug grin on his face, "And you've never been in one." He wasn't being so gentleman-like at this moment. In fact, she was regretting every bit of guilt that was swelling up inside of her.

However, he was right, and that was what held her back from taunting him.

San Min lifted the chopsticks from her napkin, directing her classic glare towards him, "Ha ha, so funny. You know what, why don't you tell me how you knew my order whilst we're at it?" she requested firmly, watching his grin widen.

"In case you forgot, we used to always eat together when we were working on investigations. I questioned you on your order every time because I was confused as to how such a person could have tastebuds like that."

She looked down, her face softening as she recalled his teasing words that despite annoying her, made her laugh and feel that sense of amusement she couldn't get at home.

"Jun-ho, why didn't you give up on me?" she asked genuinely, desparate for an answer.

His smile dropped, "What?"

"I've been pushing you away since the moment you woke up. Yes, I was there for you every day when you were in that coma but — after, I just ignored your messages. Over forty texts, and I couldn't bring myself to reply because of the fear that —" she swallowed, ignoring the burning sensation in her eyes, "The fear that I would send you into some kind of death trap again."

To her surprise, he was speechless. For the first time since he had gotten there, breaths were all you could hear coming from his mouth.

"Sorry..." San Min apologised, her head falling into her hands. She really had let a lot out, and she couldn't blame him for being quiet.

Jun-ho exhaled, and all of a sudden, a hand was on her arm. She wanted to push it away, she wanted no sympathy, though, it seemed like the world was refusing to let her do so. The hand was warm through her shirt, and it was clear he had been keeping it in his pocket.

"I broke a promise." he admitted, his voice gentle, "It's not your fault. I just wanted to find my brother and well — he clearly took that the wrong way." he laughed dryly, using humour to handle his traumatic experience.

San Min raised her head, running her hand through her hair as she looked back at him. He was doing the same, only he seemed more concerned rather than guilt-ridden, as she was. God, after the games, guilt was all she felt.

"The blood, the deaths, the gunshots —" San Min started to say her thoughts out loud, her breath starting to become heavy. She felt a tear run down her cheek, but didn't even take notice of it.

"Please don't think about that, okay?" he took his hand off her arm to eat some of his food. San Min, on the other hand, couldn't even touch it, considering her thoughts contained of the blood, the deaths, the gunshots...

She just watched him eat, feeling sorry for herself which, in all fairness was valid. Then, he met San Min's gaze, and her heart dropped to her stomach. She had to somehow break their eye contact by stuffing her face with food.

It probably looked digusting, yet she didn't care, and clearly, neither did he. He found it funny.

Swallowing the bite of salmon she had just shoved in her mouth, San Min wiped her lips before raising an eyebrow at him, "What's so funny? You making fun of my eating?" she questioned, pointing towards his plate, "You nearly finished yours in three bites!"

He tilted his head, crossing his arms against his chest, "I've never seen anyone so enthusiastic to finish their meal, except for my brother and well — shit happens." There it was again. The humour.

"Funnily enough, your brother thinks he's the shit, even though he is the complete opposite." San Min shot back, smirking at her own words. She did anything if it meant insulting his disaster of a brother who, even though she felt bad for his losses, she would attack if she could.

Jun-ho lifted his cola can from the table, raising it to his lips, "He's still my blood, San Min." he reminded her, and she froze.

"And he shot you, Jun-ho." San Min responded firmly, exaggerating his name to prove a point that she really did mean it. She didn't regret saying a single negative word about In-ho.

He took a sip of his drink, shaking his head as he set it back down. She could tell he was mad at her, but she didn't care. San Min would've felt better if she knew that he had the same anger towards her as she did with him.

She thought that possibly, he would've taken his leave right there, and decided to never communicate with him again, however, the sound of his voice echoed through her ears.

"I've looked for the island for the whole time I've been awake." he took a breath, showing that this was a sore subject for him, "I know my brother is evil. He's done so much stuff, I should be ashamed to be related to him...but I can't push away that feeling of wanting to get him help." the male continued, looking down.

San Min's breath caught in her throat for a moment. Jun-ho still cared about him. He still cared about a man like that, and it revealed that he was too caring for her to even comprehend.

"I even have his kidney." he added, rubbing the spot where the organ in question would be.

She leaned back, getting a better glance at his now disturbed face, "I'm so sorry, Jun-ho." apologising to him would've been a struggle for San Min forty-eight hours ago, yet, she had done it twice in the past few minutes.

They just stayed like that for a little while, sitting in silence whilst the sounds of cutlery scraping against plates, and muffled conversations surrounded them like background music.

"No, I'm sor —"

"Shut up." she interrupted him, restraining a smile of amusement as she reached into her bag in the empty seat beside her. He straightened his back to get a better view of what she was doing, but it was worthless. San Min had already pulled out whatever she was in search for.

It was the box she had been gifted earlier. The crimson bow was still wrapped around the lid, stuck on by hardened glue. San Min would know, she struggled to get it off eventhough she was known for being good with her hands.

Jun-ho observed the box, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "It's a bit early for valentines day, isn't it? They put a red bow on it and all." he teased, making her scowl.

"It's from my uncle. I doubt a valentine would get me something like this." she moved the top aside, revealing the pocket knife. It had a turquoise coloured handle, her favourite colour.

His eyes widened, and he found himself reaching out for it, "In the nicest way possible, I don't understand why he would give you this. Surely, it's dangerous." he stated, running his thumb across the blunt part of the blade.

Jun-ho had a point. Plus, her uncle hadn't interacted with her in such a long time, any gift from him in general was spontaneous, let alone a pocket knife. A sharp one, to be specific.

"Do you think he knows?" San Min asked, gripping onto the label with the middle aged man's handwriting stretched actoss it.

He shrugged, "Where does he live?"

"New York."

Clicking his tongue, Jun-ho held his hand out, "Unless my brother has scattered his business internationally, I don't believe your uncle would have a single clue about your experience." he pointed towards the pocket knife, "May I?"

She nodded, closing it before handing it over. As she was doing so, their fingers brushed, and the rush of comfort she felt made her tug her hand away. Jun-ho seemed to take no notice, which frustrated her slightly since she could've been hurt, but he was also distracted by the appearance of her new gift.

"Hm, it seems the only engraving on here is your surname. I don't think he necessarily meant any harm — maybe he wanted you to be able to defend yourself. When your — actually, that is probably a really triggering question." he trailed off, thanking the waiter with a nod of his head and a strained, grateful smile. 

She hated how generous he was. It was clear that their one-sided disagreement was fading, and the only thing that was stopping them from acting like normal friends was her walls. No, not the walls that protect your buildings, but the walls that separate you from people.

"Go ahead." San Min told him, pulling a piece of bread to pop in her mouth. No question was going to be worse than what she had experienced in the past few years.

His dark eyes stared deeply into hers, reminding her of the one time she dreamed about a deer. It was begging for her to spare them by using their own eyes, yet there was no blood on her hands, no hold on them, no anything.

He cleared his throat as if to show her he was continuing, "When your parents died, were they defending themselves against someone? Or, at least trying to?" Jun-ho inquired, his words making San Min ask herself where this was headed.

She sighed, fiddling with her rings, "My parents weren't like that. Everybody loved them so much, I don't get why they would have to defend themselves." San Min's own words had made her nauseous, causing her stomach to turn. No matter what, happy memories would always turn into the gory mess that was their death.

"We're going to figure this out." Jun-ho's words dragged her from her dark thoughts, and she snorted, perhaps more out of force than actual amusement.

"We?"

He rolled his eyes, pushing the knife back towards her, "I forgot you're stubborn. Sorry, ma'am. I meant you will figure this out — with me." he gave a cocky smirk at the end, knowing what he was doing; trying to rile her up.

Sarcastically returning the smile back, San Min leaned forward so he could hear her better, "You don't give up, do you, detective?" she didn't know where the nickname had come from, but it fit. He wasn't a detective anymore, yet he was still one at heart. Anyone could see that.

"You're right." he stuffed his hand into his pocket, before dropping a picture onto the table. "The recruiter. You recognise him, no?"

San Min's strained, joyful expression faded, and she suddenly felt a lump in her throat. No, the drawing of him did not look particularly accurate, but she would've recognised that name from anywhere. The suited man whom she thought was sleeping with her sister.

She was extremely wrong.

"My nephew could draw better than that, and he's nine." San Min told him, and he clicked his tongue.

"That would offend me if I had drawn it, but I didn't." Jun-ho replied, chuckling, "Will you help us find him?" he asked, causing her to choke on the piece of rice she had started eating.

She did not want to find him. In fact, she would rather get down on her knees and beg her boss for a promotion than see him again.

"No, I might have to sit out for this one."

Jun-ho frowned, pushing his plate to the side and standing up, "I'll find someone else, then. It was nice speaking to —"

San Min stood up abruptly, having to crain her neck to look up at him due to his height, "You really believed me? Yes, I despise the man and could probably do something more enjoyable than look for such a prick, but this isn't for me. It's about the other victims." she let out, taking a breath as she finished her lecture.

He held his hands up, a content expression on his face, "Okay, San Min. Are you ready to help me out again — like the old times?"

"When am I ever ready?"