So I suppose you want to ask me how I killed him?

The room was too white.

That was the first thing Jiho noticed.

White walls. White lights. White noise humming from the recorder on the table. Even the silence felt scrubbed clean, like someone tried to erase every trace of humanity from the space.

Across from him sat a man in a dark suit.

No name tag. No feeling. Just a pen tapping once… twice… then still.

“Lee Jiho,” the man said calmly. “Let’s start from the beginning.”

Jiho leaned back in the chair, wrists resting loosely on the table like he had nothing to lose.

A soft smile tugged at his lips.

“If we’re starting from the beginning…” he murmured, “you’re already too late.”

The pen stopped tapping.

Outside the glass wall, shadows of officers moved like they were waiting for something to fail.

The man in the suit flipped open a file.

A photo slid onto the table.

Jiho didn’t look at it at first.

He already knew who it was.

But the air changed anyway.

The name written underneath:

HAN SEOWOON

For a second....just one second, Jiho’s expression flickered.

Then it was gone.

“So I suppose,” the investigator said carefully, watching him like a live wire,

“You want to tell me how you killed him?”

Jiho finally looked up.

And smiled.

But it didn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said quietly. “I didn’t come here to confess.”

A pause.

A long, quiet one.

“I came here,” Jiho continued, voice soft now....almost gentle.
“to see how much of the truth you’ve already decided to bury.”

Flashback: Three Weeks Earlier (1:33 PM)

Rain hit the school roof like static.

Han Seowoon stood under the covered walkway, holding two umbrellas even though only one of them was his.

“You’re late again,” he said.

Jiho snatched the umbrella without looking at him. “You're the one who waited.”

Seowoon shrugged. “I didn’t have anything better to do.”

That was Seowoon’s problem.

He was NEVER busy.

Jiho started walking.

Seowoon ran to catch up before matching his pace.

“You know,” Seowoon said lightly, “if you keep ignoring people like that, one day you’re gonna end up alone.”

Jiho's steps slowed.

Slowly turned his head.

“Is that supposed to be advice?”

Seowoon smiled.

“More like a prediction.”

For a moment, the air went quiet again.

Then Jiho laughed once.

“You talk too much.”

Seowoon leaned in slightly, their shoulders almost touching.

“Then stop listening.”

And… Jiho didn’t move away.

Back to the Present Day

The investigator closed the file.

“Han Seowoon died three days ago,” he said. “You were the last person with him.”

Jiho tilted his head.

“That’s not true.”

“No,” the man replied. “It’s a fact. The video surveillance is all the evidence I need.”

Silence.

Jiho stared at the photo on the table like it might flicker back to life if he looked enough.

Then he leaned forward slightly.

His voice dropped.

“Then your version doesn’t add up.”

The man leaned in. “Then explain why it doesn’t.”

The recorder light blinked red.

Outside, thunder rumbled in the distance.