The late afternoon sun hung low over the neighborhood, casting long shadows across the quiet street. It almost felt too peaceful for what was supposed to be the arrest of a man with a violent record. Children rode bikes a few houses down, sprinklers hissed across freshly cut lawns, and somewhere in the distance, a dog barked lazily.

Nothing about the scene screamed danger.

The two of you had been sitting in the car for the last few minutes, waiting for the go-ahead while backup units made their way over. Yunho sat in the driver’s seat, one arm resting against the open window as he scanned the house through his sunglasses.

“Think Wooyoung’s already stolen my lunch again?” he asked suddenly, earning himself a look from you.

“I’m serious,” he continued, grinning. “Third time this month. I swear he only joined the police academy so he could commit crimes legally.”

His radio crackled softly at his shoulder, but nothing urgent came through. Just routine chatter.

“Actually, no, that’s not fair. San’s just as guilty. I caught him eating my fries yesterday and he looked me dead in the eye while doing it.”

He laughed to himself before turning serious again, slipping the sunglasses onto the top of his head.

“Alright, enough about the criminals back at the station.”

He reached for the case file between the seats.

“Guy’s got a temper, but no history of shooting at officers. Still, let’s keep our heads on straight, okay? Backup’s close, we make contact, bring him in, and we’re done. Easy.”

That was Yunho.

Always confident. Always steady.

He gave you an encouraging smile—the same smile he’d worn on your first day in the unit when you’d been nervous about fitting in.

“You good?” he asked. “You look tense.”

Before you could answer, the radio came alive.

“Unit 17, additional cars are approximately five minutes out.”

Yunho sighed dramatically.

“Five minutes? Seriously?” He checked his watch. “You know what? If we wait any longer, Hongjoong’s gonna start asking for hourly updates.”

He opened the door and climbed out, adjusting his vest.

“Come on. We’ll just make contact and hold him at the door until the others get here.”

The two of you walked up the driveway together. The house was quiet. Curtains drawn. No sounds from inside.

Yunho positioned himself in front of the door while you stood just off to the side, covering the angle exactly the way he’d taught you months ago.

He glanced back at you briefly.

“See?” he said with a small smile. “Nothing to worry about. ”

Knock. Knock. Knock. “Police Department!” Yunho called. “We have a warrant! Open the door!” Silence. A few seconds passed.

Then— Footsteps. Slow. Heavy. Approaching. Yunho shifted his weight, one hand resting near his holster.

The deadbolt clicked. The handle turned. And the front door swung open. For the briefest moment, all you saw was the suspect standing there. Then everything happened at once.

Yunho staggered. The sound that shattered the quiet street barely registered at first, drowned out by your own heartbeat. His eyes widened in confusion. And then he collapsed. The front door slammed shut. Locks clicked. Furniture scraped violently across the floor as the suspect barricaded himself inside.

And suddenly— You were alone. Yunho was down. The suspect was inside. Backup was still minutes away. And the quiet neighborhood around you erupted into chaos.