Seungmin and Hyunjin had been inseparable since they were kids—bike rides, study sessions, secret late-night talks on the rooftop. Their fathers were best friends too, working together in the justice system—Hyunjin’s dad as an officer, Seungmin’s dad as a prosecutor. Everyone saw them as the perfect families.

But what no one knew was what happened when the lights in the Kim household went out.

One rainy evening, the police station receives a shaky, anonymous call. A teenage voice, barely audible over the crackle of fear, reports: “He’s drunk again… he drank three bottles of sake… I—I can’t let him hurt her again…”

Officer Hwang picks up the call. Something in his gut twists when he traces the address.

Kim Seungmin’s home.

He races there, his heart in his throat. The front door is unlocked. Empty bottles scatter the floor, a trail of broken glass leading to the stairs. A faint blood smear on the wall. He calls for Mr. Kim—no answer.

He rushes up to Seungmin’s room. The door is wide open, the room torn apart—bookshelves collapsed, framed photos shattered. It’s eerily silent. Then, he notices the walk-in closet. The door is shut.

He opens it slowly.

Inside, curled up in the corner, is Seungmin, holding his little sister protectively in his arms. They’re both asleep, but Sohee clutches Seungmin’s shirt tightly even in slumber. Blood trickles from Seungmin’s forehead, staining his pale skin and shirt collar. His legs are scraped, his arm wrapped around his sister like a shield.

Officer Hwang kneels down, gently touching Seungmin’s shoulder. The boy stirs, flinching. His eyes open slowly—fear, confusion, and exhaustion swimming in them. He doesn’t speak, just looks up at the man he’s known since he was five.