Minsoo barely managed to scramble into the car, slipping through the throngs of people who were screaming for an explanation—as if they had every right to know the intimate details of his life.
As soon as he reached his house, tucked away in a dark corner of the street, he caught the glint of a camera lens. He ignored it, instructing the driver to pull into the ground-floor garage and then depart. He stepped out of the car and entered through the main door.
The moment he pushed the door open, he was greeted by the scent of seaweed soup, Miyeok-guk… a warm, familiar aroma that seeped into his heart and brought him a sense of peace. A grateful smile played on his lips; he understood what was happening before he even saw it.
He moved toward the kitchen quietly, wanting to catch a glimpse of her while she cooked for him. No matter how many times he saw that scene, he never grew tired of it. It always made him feel like he belonged—that there was someone who cared for him exactly as he was, for his true self, and who feared for his safety.
But in the kitchen…
The pot was still on the stove, but Himi was nowhere to be found.
He paused for a moment, thinking to himself, "Where is she? She wouldn't just leave the pot on the fire and walk away..."
He headed toward the second floor, searching for her silently, making sure not to make a sound. Suddenly—the bathroom door swung open.
Himi stepped out, wearing Minsoo's clothes, which she had cuffed several times to fit her frame. She was drying her hair with a towel. In Minsoo's eyes, her movements weren't normal; it was as if she were moving in slow motion, as if time itself had slowed down around her. He felt as though he could hear music about beauty playing inside his head.
Was she truly this beautiful? Or was his mind exaggerating the image his eyes were sending?
She approached him quickly. Suddenly, she lunged forward, putting her head right in front of his face.
He recoiled instantly. "Himi! Have you lost your mind? Why are you shoving your head in my face?!"
She replied calmly, "It's fine… tell me, what do you smell?"
He sighed. "What do you expect? The scent of my shampoo, which you clearly just used."
She gave him a look of feigned resentment. "If you weren't sick, I'd hit you right now." She added, "Boasting about your shampoo? I'll buy you a whole bottle, you cheapskate."
He arched an eyebrow. "I'm a cheapskate?"
She cracked a faint smile. "To be honest... you aren't cheap at all, but you are reckless." She continued with a grumble, "Why didn't you close the minced garlic jar properly? I've told you several times to put it in the fridge door, but you put it on the top shelf. I was leaning down to get the ingredients, I heard a noise, and when I looked up quickly... the jar fell right on my head and clothes."
The bickering was simple… natural… like any conversation between two friends. Two orphaned friends who had become each other's only family.
To the world, Himi was just a supportive sister figure to Minsoo, a constant presence at his house. To the press and the fans, she posed no threat.
But deep down…
Minsoo was no brother, and Himi was no sister. As long as blood did not bind them, anything was possible.
They sat together at the dining table. Minsoo gripped his spoon, trying to eat, but he spilled a bit of soup on himself. Without saying a word, Himi took the spoon from his hand and began to feed him, blowing on the food before offering it to him.
He gazed at her face for a long time, memorizing every detail. She wasn't perfect; there were those more beautiful than her, and there were plenty of other options. But to him… she was like a lone star shining in the middle of the sky. No matter how brightly others shone, he could pick her out instantly—simply because she was Himi.
As she fed him, she asked, "Does your hand still hurt?"
In a moment of surrender, he decided to indulge in a bit of self-pity. "Ah… it hurts a lot."
Startled, she grabbed his hand and began to blow on the bandages. "Really? It hurts that much? Tell me what I can do for you."
He looked at her for a long time, unable to pull his eyes away. He said to himself: "Why does this heart refuse to accept the idea that you are just a friend? Why does it always want more? Even if I see you for the thousandth time… this heartbeat never changes."
He quickly looked away before he could get caught. But inside, both were resisting those feelings, trying to keep them from breaking loose.
Minsoo moved from his seat, heading toward the bathroom to relieve himself, but he returned quickly, frustration etched across his face. He sat down, trying to keep his composure.
Himi noticed. "What's wrong, Minsoo? You don't look well… your face is red." She leaned in and touched his forehead. "Your temperature is normal. Why the redness? Could it be an allergic reaction to the medicine?"
He remained silent for a moment as she continued to hover over him with concern. "Get away from me," he said, flustered. "I'm perfectly fine."
She paused, then said, "Alright… it's getting late. Since you're fine, I'll head home."
He said with difficulty, "Are you going to leave… in my pajamas?"
She smiled. "You're right. I think my clothes are dry by now."
She went and changed, then grabbed her bag, preparing to leave. She stood by the door, putting on her shoes. Minsoo stood behind her.
"Are you... leaving?" he asked hesitantly.
She looked at him, puzzled. "Don't you see me leaving?" Then she noticed his agitation. "What is it? Is there something you want to say?"
He shifted his gaze away, his features filled with embarrassment. "Yes… could you help me with something?"
"Of course, tell me."
Silence.
Then he said, "Never mind… just go."
She stepped closer, insistent. "Minsoo, tell me."
He took a deep breath, lifting his shirt slightly to fan himself, then said quickly:
"Unbuckle my belt... I can't do it myself."
Himi froze for a heartbeat, then tried to suppress her blush. She leaned down quickly, turning her face away so as not to look, unbuckled the belt… and hurried out.
Outside the house, she walked normally. But as soon as she got into her car, she looked in the mirror. "What is this? Why is my face so red?" She placed her hand over her heart and whispered, "You idiot… calm down. We can handle this."
Inside, Minsoo sat down, unable to believe what he had just said. "Have I gone mad? Why did I say that? What is she going to think now?"
But for a moment… he forgot his illness, his hallucinations, and his doubts. He felt normal again, as if nothing had happened.
But
Detective Kim's deadline was almost up.
And to a diseased mind that saw souls as nothing more than tools… the danger was far from over.