“No one’s dead,” Seo Tae-joon said, his voice strained. “Ji-woo, are you all right?” He was the one who looked far from all right; his body was a fresh map of cuts and bruises.
“Seo Tae-joon,” Ji-woo whispered, her own voice weak. “You should have fought back.”
Guilt settled in her chest, heavy as a stone. She’d forgotten that he took her words as gospel, that he would follow her every instruction to the letter. This was her fault. She had tried to mold him into someone gentle, someone he wasn’t, and he’d gotten hurt for it. He hadn’t even resisted while they beat him, and the ghost of his pain left a sharp, aching mark on her heart.
“I’m okay,” Ji-woo managed, taking a shaky breath and finally meeting his gaze. “There will be times you want to smash things, and times you just want a quiet night with someone. That’s normal. It’s not because there’s something wrong with you, it’s just…instinct. I was wrong to try and change who you are. Everyone is different.”
She nodded, as if trying to convince herself as much as him. “From now on, don’t change for me. Knowing how to fight… that can be a strength. With your skills, you could help Gyu-baek catch dragonflies, or you could protect your family from men like the ones we met tonight. Thank you. For saving me.”
Ji-woo avoided his eyes as she spoke. Seo Tae-joon’s brow furrowed, but a faint, pained smile touched his lips. He ignored the throbbing of his injuries, focusing instead on a strange warmth that spread through his chest. “Let’s go home. Let’s get out of here. But first… can you take a picture of this place?”
Ji-woo pulled out her phone, the camera’s flash cutting through the gloom as she began to document the scene for evidence. Meanwhile, Seo Tae-joon sifted through the pockets of their downed assailants, pulling out a handful of cheap, disposable-looking phones. As he scanned the message histories with cold eyes, the corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk.
A sudden, tinny ringtone sliced through the night air. Ji-woo, who was standing nearby, held her breath as the small screen lit up.
「Jo Kyung-cheon」
As Ji-woo reached for the ringing phone, a hand closed over hers, stopping her. She let out a choked gasp, her heart leaping into her throat. Seo Tae-joon had moved silently behind her. For some inexplicable reason, he had pulled a thin black cloth over his entire head.
“What… what are you doing?” she stammered.
“Ji-woo, do you want to go boating with me?”
“What?” The bizarre question sent a fresh chill down her spine.
“We never finished our date,” he said, and she could hear a joyful, muffled hum from beneath the cloth. “So, why don’t we go boating?”
Cheongdo was an island. A few kilometers’ drive from the mountains brought the wharf into view, where fishing boats bobbed in a neat line against the docks. Ji-woo wrung her hands, watching the scenery blur past the window of the old van as it rattled violently over every bump in the road.
“Seo Tae-joon, are you insane?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What is this? You’re scaring me to death.”
He was still wearing the black cloth over his head, and he had used a length of rope to bind his own hands. To any outsider, he would have looked like a hostage.
“You told me to smash things if I wanted to. I want to be useful.” His voice, though muffled, carried a chillingly placid tone. “I’ll be a husband you can be proud of.”
Whatever you’re trying to say, it’s not very convincing when you’re dressed like that, Ji-woo thought frantically. If she’d looped the rope around his neck, he would look like a man moments from execution. The thin fabric clung to his lips with every breath he took.
Ji-woo frantically debated whether to call Seo Tae-joon’s brother for help or just dial the police.
“By the way, Ji-woo,” he said, his tone conversational. “Before the accident, was flower arranging the only thing I did?”
“Why are you asking that now?”
“Because my hands feel more comfortable with a knife than with flower stems. It’s like my body already knows where to stab someone to kill them instantly. My mind keeps offering up hundreds of ways to torture a person for the greatest possible pain.” He said it all without a trace of emotion, as if commenting on the weather.
Ji-woo clasped her hands together so tightly her knuckles went white. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. I take it all back. You should never, ever be allowed to leave the house. Forcing the shock from her face, she spoke in what she hoped was a calm, steady voice. “Your hobby… was boxing.”