PSY CH 104

The clearer Dohyun’s gaze fixed on him, the more Jooyoung felt an unshakable belief that this man could solve anything. That gaze grounded his trembling, anxiety-ridden body and helped push away the tension.

Why?

Even to himself, the shift in feelings felt incredibly fast, so much so that it was confusing.

“…”

Despite repeating over and over that this had nothing to do with him, Jooyoung hadn’t been able to leave. Because he was anxious. Because he couldn’t trust himself.

But if it was Dohyun…

He felt like it would be okay.

It was a baseless belief, and yet it was also a lifeline meant only for Jooyoung—one that would never break.

“Just a moment. Sir, I don’t think this is going to work.”

The police officer, who had been fumbling through a phone call for some time, let out a deep sigh and returned to the lodging house. Whatever had happened, things weren’t going the way the complainant wanted.

“You’re sure you lost it yesterday?”

At Woosang’s question, the man flinched. Woosang caught that hesitation instantly and narrowed his eyes.

“If you’re not even sure when you lost it, then you shouldn’t be reporting it like this. Don’t you realize this kind of thing weakens public safety?”

“I always leave it there!”

The fight, which had quieted down somewhat, flared back up as voices rose and fell again. Even the onlookers began tossing in comments.

“Wow, seriously?”

“Well, he says something’s missing.”

“If the CCTV’s broken, then that’s it. He’s just making life harder for everyone.”

As the crowd’s gaze turned colder, the man began to act up even more. Woosang clicked his tongue and shut the door. People who had been watching curiously started losing interest and drifting away. 

Jooyoung silently stared at the frosted glass door. Voices continued to leak from inside, but with so many people speaking at once, it was hard to make out any single conversation. 

Either way, staying here wasn’t going to help. There was nothing he could do.

“…”

He thought of Dohyun, who hadn’t taken his eyes off him until the very last second. Anxiety was like a shadow—it couldn’t be removed entirely. But alongside it coexisted a powerful belief that Dohyun would somehow make things right.

Jooyoung slowly released the railing he had been gripping. He’d been holding it so tightly that his palm throbbed with pain. He stared blankly at his own hand for a moment before blending into the dispersing crowd and walking away. With each step up the stairs, the noise below grew more distant. Eventually, he could no longer hear any sound at all. 

***

After the forensic team had finished fingerprinting and left, the previously noisy lodging house finally fell quiet. The complainant, who had been loudly protesting for so long, seemed to have given up. He now wore a disappointed expression and trudged back to his room in silence. His slumped shoulders made him look deeply dejected.

The item he claimed had been stolen was a tumbler. Since it wasn’t an expensive item, both the police and the forensics team had treated the situation with little enthusiasm from the beginning. Watching the man insist on fingerprinting to the very end, Woosang clicked his tongue and muttered that the cost of the forensics likely exceeded the value of the stolen item.

“Huh? Isn’t that Jooyoung’s room-ssi?”

Spotting Dohyun coming out of Jooyoung’s room, Sunwoo looked puzzled.

“Oh, Jooyoung-ssi must’ve asked him to bring something.”

Realizing Dohyun and Jooyoung knew each other, he nodded to himself. Just then, he noticed the shopping bag in Dohyun’s hand.

“But boss, when did the CCTV break? That area was installed not too long ago, right?”

Sunwoo followed after Dohyun, muttering on and on.

“Maybe something got left out during the install? That contractor seemed shady. I’m telling you, this is why you shouldn’t hire people just because you know them.”

Leaving Sunwoo to his rambling, Dohyun headed into the administration office. He locked the door and sat in front of the computer. The monitor was pitch black.

“Get it fixed as soon as you can. If something goes wrong, you’re the one who’ll suffer.”

That’s what Woosang had told him before he left, after a brief chat. He’d asked about how things were going and whether there had been any similar incidents recently. It seemed he had seen the theft warning posted on the bulletin board. He patted Dohyun on the shoulder as he voiced various concerns. 

He had once been close to Dohyun’s grandfather, and it was largely thanks to the old man that he became a police officer. He said that, despite coming from a difficult background, he managed to endure the civil service exam period with the help and support of the grandfather, who had worked in public service. Though he was deeply disappointed when the grandfather fell into gambling and they grew apart for a while, he was also the one who took charge of the funeral on behalf of young Dohyun.

At the time, Dohyun’s parents had both been overseas. They had rushed to book a flight back, but by the time they arrived, the funeral had already taken place.

“Keep an eye on the arcade, too. If rumors start spreading quietly, it’ll be too late. You know that, right?”

Everyone knew, but no one said anything—yet the type of coin push machines used in the adult arcade were still technically illegal.

Even when Dohyun refused, Woosang had forced him to accept some pocket money before leaving with the other officers. He was also the one who had calmed down the angry complainant.

“Haah…”

Dohyun dropped his head and let out a heavy sigh. His hand rubbed at the corner of his eye with a rough motion.

He’d let his guard down these past few days. With Jooyoung staying at his place and seeming so comfortable, Dohyun had neglected to check the CCTV. He shouldn’t have done that…

He had rushed back the moment Sunwoo called to say a tenant had reported a theft and the police were on the way. He ran every red light and broke every speed limit on the way there. But even so, by the time he arrived, the police were already on site.

And Jooyoung’s face had turned deathly pale.

“…”

Dohyun tapped the desk lightly with his index finger. Tap, tap. How long had he sat like that? Eventually, with a stiff expression, he gripped the mouse. When he opened the folder, a list of videos automatically saved by date appeared.

The claim that the disk was broken and the recording wasn’t working had been a lie. The CCTV system was fully functional—both live and recorded footage were intact.

If he had checked it earlier that morning, he wouldn’t have had to lie about it being broken.

“…”

The cursor hovered over the video file for a long time. Dohyun stared blankly at the shopping bag he had placed on the desk.

After much, much hesitation, he deleted all the footage from the past few days.

He turned off the recording function, too.

***

Dohyun returned home around sunset. His hand hurriedly punched in the door lock code, but when it came time to open the door, he did so with extreme caution, not letting a single sound escape.

He stepped into the house silently and stopped in the entryway. Contrary to his expectation of silence, the living room TV was on, and the air smelled of freshly cooked rice.

“You’re back?”

Jooyoung peeked his head out from the kitchen.

The unexpected scene froze Dohyun in place.

He had thought of Jooyoung the entire way home—his face drained of color, eyes locked on him like a child lost from their parents. He’d been worried that Jooyoung might be crying somewhere, face swollen like that day.

But Jooyoung was nothing like what he’d imagined.

Still stunned, Dohyun made his way to the kitchen. On the dining table, side dishes were neatly arranged on small plates.

“You’re going to eat dinner now, right?”

When Dohyun didn’t answer, Jooyoung looked back at him, silently asking again with his eyes. Dohyun nodded without thinking.

“Just help me scoop some rice.”

While Jooyoung ladled soup into a wide bowl, Dohyun opened the rice cooker. Steam rose from the freshly cooked rice.

Even after they sat across from each other at the table, the sense of disorientation didn’t go away. Jooyoung wasn’t trembling with anxiety, nor was he edgy or defensive. In fact, he seemed calmer than usual.

“You okay?”

As he lifted his spoon, Jooyoung blinked and gave a small nod.

“Yeah.”

Even in his subdued tone, there was no trace of unease.

“Earlier, I was really anxious…”

“…”

“But after seeing you, I felt better.”

“…”

“It’s true.”

The golden light of the sunset poured in between the curtains. Maybe it was because of that warm light, but Jooyoung’s face, with a faint smile, looked even softer than usual.

Dohyun pressed his thumb into the hollow of his palm. He hadn’t done anything special, so why was Jooyoung saying he felt better? The uncertainty only made him more confused.

“Does it feel like too much?”

“What?”

Maybe Dohyun’s expression gave something away, because Jooyoung asked if he was being a burden. Dohyun sat with the question for a moment, stunned, before quickly replying.

“It’s not too much.”

“…”

“I mean, I didn’t really do anything, but you’re saying that…”

“If anything happens, you’d take care of it, wouldn’t you?”

In that instant, Dohyun couldn’t hide his surprise.

“You like threatening me, don’t you?”

It felt like just yesterday Jooyoung had said that with bloodshot eyes. But now, Jooyoung was genuinely placing his trust in him. The shift was so startling it almost didn’t feel real. 

But… was this really okay?

Checking the CCTV every morning wasn’t enough. Jooyoung’s sleepwalking and kleptomania could return at any moment. He remembered the time Jooyoung had stolen painkillers from a pharmacy. He’d only caught it because he’d followed Jooyoung that day. But what if he hadn’t?

“Have you thought about going to a hospital?”

At those words, Jooyoung’s face instantly hardened, like someone whose deepest wound had just been touched.