Haerin's POV

"I'm sorry."

There were only two words reflecting on the phone screen. Simple, yet unbearably heavy.

The message was unread. No reply. No acknowledgment. Nothing but the cold silence which indicated that this conversation might never continue.

It was five in the morning. The sun hasn't risen yet. The faint colours of purple made it's way into the apartment through the windows.

The soft chirping of birds was audible through the wall. It was like a quiet reminder that the world outside was already awake. Inside the apartment the gentle hum of the coffee machine filled the silence, blending with the faint murmurs of a live news broadcast playing on the television. The apartment was peaceful except for me sitting on one of the chairs near the kitchen island, lost in thought. My phone screen was casting a glow on my face.

I wasn't watching the news nor was listening to the birds. My gaze remained fixed on a single message I sent to someone, who meant a lot to me. My best friend.

I exhaled softly while my fingers tightened around the phone. A sigh slipped past my lips. My eyes followed the cabinets of the kitchen but my mind was lost somewhere else.

I was pulled back from my thoughts by the beep of the coffee machine. I poured the freshly brewed liquid into a mug. The warmth of the mug was seeping through my fingers.

I made my way towards the french doors, my bare feet brushing against the cool wooden floor. My reflection faintly mirrored back at me in the glass. The rays of the rising sun fell on my face giving a glow on my face.

I took a slow sip of the coffee, the bitterness bringing comfort to me. But my mind was lingering on a message that might never be answered.

Being a journalist was never easy. The world never stopped moving, which meant neither the news did. Every second, something was happening. Somewhere, someone's life was changing, ending, or being exposed. It was like a never ending cycle. Hundreds of investigations, and chasing after truth. I had realized that waking up early and using these quiet moments to appreciate the stillness of the world was the only way to relax myself while living in this chaos

But my mind was anywhere but the present. My mind drifted back to last night. To the argument we had.

Jimin and I had never fought like that before. Not in college, not even when we started getting busy in our careers. But yesterday... was different. The reason? It felt childish now. It was something so small and so meaningless which we could have avoided, but we had thrown words at each other like knives, sharp and unforgiving.

I could still hear the frustration in his voice and see the disappointment on his face. The way his face hardened as I said something, which I instantly regretted. And Yoongi, the only rational one in our trio, tried his best to calm us down. He tried to turn down the heat between us, but without us realising, the argument turned so ugly that I wondered if we will ever look at each other the same again.

Jimin had stormed out of my office. Before leaving he slammed the door so hard that the sound was still lingering in my ears.

I exhaled, shaking off the memory. Before my mind could become messier, the reporter's voice on the television caught my attention.

"Breaking news: a dead body has been found in the forest on the outskirts of Seoul."

My eyebrows furrowed as I turned from the window. I placed my coffee on the table before grabbing the remote on the couch. I pressed the volume button so that I can hear clearly.

"The body was discovered in a severely brutal and unrecognizable state. Authorities have been investigating the scene for over an hour but they have handed over the case to the Sentinel Division as this case requires a more professional approach. Hence, Detective Jeon is now leading the case."

On the screen, a blur of image of a dead body was shown. The body was beyond recognition, but that wasn't what sent a cold shiver through me.

It was the man in the frame who was the nation's most well-known detective, Jeon Jungkook, my long-time crush. He was striding toward the crime scene with sharp focus. He skilfully avoided the desperate crowd of reporters who were pushing each other around him in an attempt to get a statement from him.

Before I could process anything further, my phone buzzed on the counter. A call from Kim Namjoon, my boss.

I muted the television and picked it up. "Good morning, Mr. Kim."

His deep voice came through the speaker. His voice was calm yet direct. "Good morning, Miss Jung. I assume you've already heard the news?"

I let out a chuckle while rubbing my temple. "Another day, another murder. Someone probably killed for money, power, or love like always."

"This one might be different," Namjoon said, and something in his tone made my stomach twist. "I need you to go to the crime scene immediately and report everything back to the Nova press."

I sighed. I had no energy to work after the hectic time I went through yesterday. "Mr. Kim, I just got home at 2 AM last night."

"I know," he said. "But so many of our employees have taken a leave since it's the holiday season and also I would prefer someone professional for this case. I promise you'll get a day off after this. Plus, I already sent Yoongi to accompany you."

I pressed my fingers against my forehead, feeling the exhaustion settle in deeper. "And Jimin?" I asked as I expected him to be assigned to the case as well. "You always send all three of us together for all the major projects."

There was a pause. Namjoon sighed. "Jimin applied for a leave last night. His sister's operation was today, so he had to leave for his hometown."

I stilled. He never mentioned it to me nor Yoongi. I forced my voice to remain neutral. "Oh."

"Get there as soon as you can," Namjoon continued. "The press is already swarming the area."

I murmured a quick goodbye before hanging up.

A part of me wanted to text Jimin. To ask why he hadn't told me. But then again, maybe it wasn't surprising. Things had been tense between us since last week.

Why? I wasn't sure about it myself.

Could it be jealousy? No, that was not possible at all. We had never been jealous of each other before. Not when one of us scored higher in college, not when one of us got a promotion, not even when one of us found a date while the other remained single.

I shook my head realising that now it wasn't the right time to think about this.

I drained the rest of my coffee which lost it's warmth. I then hurried to my room and quickly changed my clothes. I pulled on a jacket, already dreading the cold air of the early morning. My warm bed and blanket were calling me to come back and have the best nap of my life, but duty came first.

________________________________________

I pulled up near the crime scene, parking my car near the area where a massive crowd had already gathered. The air was thick with muffled voices. The area was crowded with law enforcement officers, forensic teams, journalists fighting to get closer, and curious onlookers from nearby villages whispering amongst themselves. All of their faces looked disturbed by what they witnessed.

Something about this crime felt different. It felt darker than other crimes

My eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on a familiar figure standing with his arms crossed. He looked cute while waiting for me patiently.

Min Yoongi.

I walked up to him, nudging his shoulder lightly. "Good morning."

I chirped brightly almost as if nothing happened yesterday night. He barely reacted, offering only a small nod.

Usually, Yoongi was reserved and emotionally unreadable. I knew it was just who he was. But today, he felt... distant. More than ever and I knew why.

The chilling wind passed between us, ruffling our hair. Our eyes met and then I saw it, the disappointment in his gaze. And I was sure he saw the guilt I carried in my eyes. .

I exhaled heavily. "I'm really sorry. I didn't want things to have turned out the way they did."

Yoongi shook his head, exhaling sharply. "Haerin, we have work to be done. We have better times to talk about this." His voice was steady, but there was a hint of frustration in it.

Then, without another word, he handed me a notebook and a pen.

I blinked at him. "Huh?"

"I knew you'd forget like always, so I brought one for you too." Saying that he started walking leaving me behind.

That was Yoongi. Even when he was mad and disappointed in me, he looked out for me. He and Jimin... they knew me better than I knew myself.

A faint smile tugged at my lips as I took the notebook. I jogged to catch up with his long strides. "You know, you're such a sweetheart, Yoongi. You are so thoughtful for bringing me extra notes. Honestly, I wanted to bring you coffee too, but—"

I stopped mid-sentence when I looked at Yoongi, who stopped walking and went still.

He was frozen and his lips parted. His hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. His eyes were wide. He wasn't blinking at all. A strange feeling settled in my heart when I looked at him.

I called out to him. "Yoongi?" He slowly bought his hand up. He pointed at something with his index finger. I slowly looked up to where he was pointing.

And then I saw the most disturbing scene of my life.

The corpse lay sprawled on the damp forest floor. It was completely burnt. It was impossible to recognize the body.

It was surrounded by yellow crime scene tape. The experts and authorities were moving around trying to make out what really happened.

My stomach twisted violently as my eyes traveled over the corpse. I felt sick. Many insects were crawling on the body. The sight was too disturbing.

But then I saw something which made my breath hitch so hard that it hurt.

Inside a sealed zip-lock evidence bag, held by one of the investigators was a bracelet. A simple, worn-out bracelet and a purse. They were too familiar to me.

My lungs stopped working. A broken sob left my mouth before I can force it down.

The notebook and pen slipped from my hands and hit the ground with a loud thud. My knees were trembling. My vision blurred due to tears. My entire body shook violently as I stumbled back. I clamped a hand over my mouth to silence the scream that threatened to come out.

This can't be real. This shouldn't be happening.

I turned to Yoongi and clutched onto him like he was the only thing keeping me from falling apart. My nails dug into his biceps as I shook him. I held onto him tightly and shook him so hard.

"Yoongi," I whispered first. After not receiving a response, I shouted loudly.

"Yoongi, tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that's not our Jimin."

He didn't move nor he spoke. He didn't even look at me. He just stood there. He was motionless.

I saw a single tear streaming down his face. And that was the moment I knew...that it was Jimin.

That was our Jimin.

He was dead. Gone forever. 

To be continued...