Chapter 4: The Strange Boy, Lee Hwi-jun (4)

Many people wish to be special.

To be something distinct from the ordinary—someone extraordinary.

But being distinctly different from the ordinary can also mean, in other words, being abnormal.

To Ahn Dae-soo, an ordinary person, the boy named Lee Hwi-joon looked incredibly strange.

And when people see something different from themselves, more often than not, they feel fear or rejection rather than affection.

So to Ahn Dae-soo, the boy named Lee Hwi-joon felt like a deeply unsettling presence.

But just then, as Dae-soo unconsciously brushed the goosebumps from his arm with his hand, he happened to see it.

“…Ah.”

Reflected in the boy’s eyes, quietly staring in his direction, was the stiff, frozen image of himself.

Seeing that, Ahn Dae-soo bit down hard on his lip.

‘…Shit. Am I seriously getting spooked by some kid when I want to be a violent crimes detective?’

The fact that he, aspiring to be a detective in the violent crimes unit, had for even a moment been intimidated by a mere high schooler felt utterly shameful.

‘By some punk who probably still smells like milk… Damn it, what a disgrace…’

He had pride, both as a cop and as a man—what kind of scene was this?

Such disgraceful behavior was unacceptable to Ahn Dae-soo.

“Hrrmph…!”

So Dae-soo took a deep breath and straightened his chest.

No matter how weird this kid was, talking about seeing ghosts or whatever, he was still a police officer—he couldn’t afford to be scared.

He adjusted his posture and repeated to himself:

‘I’m a cop.’

Yes, he was a cop.

And what was the role of a cop?

To solve people’s problems.

Then it didn’t matter what kind of being he was dealing with—as long as he solved the problem, that was enough.

With that mindset, Ahn Dae-soo reminded himself of the reason this boy was sitting in front of him and spoke again.

“Anyway, somehow we got off track. Let’s get back to the point.”

Bringing the conversation back from its brief detour, Dae-soo asked for confirmation from the boy:

“So, what you’re saying is—you pulled that girl back because a ghost was about to push her, and you were trying to stop the accident, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

The boy nodded as he answered.

There was no hint of deceit in his voice.

…So that’s how it is.

…Honestly, it’s still hard to believe ghosts actually exist, but—while tapping lightly on the desk with his fingers, Dae-soo pondered for a moment.

Then, stopping his fingers, he spoke to the boy.

“Well done, then.”

He said it was a good thing.

“…Sorry?”

“You did the right thing. If you hadn’t stepped in, she might’ve been seriously hurt. Breaking a phone to stop that? That’s worth praise.”

Because if ghosts did exist, then what the boy did absolutely deserved commendation.

So what if a phone got broken?

He had prevented what could’ve been a serious accident.

Hearing that, the boy looked at him wide-eyed and asked,

“…You really believe me?”

As if he had never even considered the possibility that someone might.

What the hell does this kid think I am…

A bit annoyed at the boy’s reaction, Ahn Dae-soo snapped irritably, “Come on, do I look like I’d fake it? Do you think I’m the kind of guy who’d call you a liar even if you told the truth?”

But in response, the boy said:

“…Honestly, most people just treat me like I’m crazy.”

And with just that one sentence, Dae-soo could clearly feel what kind of treatment the boy had received from others all this time.

He fell silent, looking at the boy without even realizing it.

Was it just his imagination, or did the boy’s otherwise expressionless face carry a trace of sorrow?

Just a moment ago, the boy had felt like something other—but now, he looked human.

Someone with the same kind of emotions.

Dae-soo looked at the boy again.

‘…Still a kid.’

A little strange, sure—but still just a kid, by his standards.

A boy who had said he didn’t even have a guardian to contact.

That alone was enough for Dae-soo to guess that the boy had likely faced plenty of hardships in life.

Maybe the reason he seemed so stoic was because he’d reached a point where most things no longer stirred his emotions outwardly.

So many emotional wounds as a child… the scabs over them probably grew thick.

With those thoughts, Dae-soo began to feel sympathy and pity for the boy, but instead of trying to console him clumsily, he simply said, “…Yeah, I get it. Who would believe it if you said you see ghosts? To be honest, I still have a hard time believing it myself.”

Anyway, he wouldn’t understand the boy’s situation, nor would he empathize with him. And the boy, more than anyone, surely knew that this was reality.

“…But I’m someone who doesn’t believe in ghosts, but I trust my instincts.”

Instead, An Dae-Soo said to the boy:

“My eyes don’t make it look like you’re lying, so at least I’ll believe you.”

Even though he found it hard to believe in the existence of ghosts, he could still believe in the boy.

He was saying this with sincerity.

At that, the boy stared at An Dae-Soo for a moment, then said:

“…Thank you. For believing in me.”

He smiled faintly, but it was clear he was happy.

‘…Ah, seeing him smile like that is making me feel kind of strange.’

Seeing the boy smile like that made An Dae-Soo feel both proud and emotional.

He waved his hand awkwardly, feeling a little embarrassed, and said:

“…Eh, why are you thanking me for something like that? Forget about the thanks. There’s nothing else to say, so you should hurry up and get to school. You’ll be late at this rate.”

“…Right. I should get going if I don’t want to be late. Take care.”

After checking the time, the boy stood up and, as if he really had to go, walked toward the exit of the police station.

Seeing this, the tension in An Dae-Soo’s body relaxed, and he slumped his forehead onto the desk, deep in thought.

‘Since last night, it’s been nothing but exhausting. But I guess there won’t be anything else happening now…’

But just as An Dae-Soo thought that, a voice called out:

“Excuse me, Officer An Dae-Soo…?”

Raising his head at the voice calling him, An Dae-Soo was confused as he looked at the boy standing at the door of the police station, staring in his direction.

“Uh…? What’s up, didn’t you leave yet?”

“Well, it’s not really a thank-you for believing in me… but I feel like I have to tell you something, regardless.”

The boy said this to An Dae-Soo, then quietly turned his gaze toward a corner of the police station.

Following the boy’s gaze with his eyes, An Dae-Soo couldn’t help but look puzzled.

There was just a lonely chair with no one in sight where the boy was looking.

‘Why is he looking there with such a pitiful expression…?’

While An Dae-Soo was thinking this, the boy spoke again:

“…They asked me to find the cave on the mountain behind the school.”

After leaving that cryptic statement, the boy, Lee Hwi-Joon, left the police station.

***

“A cave on the mountain behind the school? What does that mean…?”

After the boy left, An Dae-Soo spent some time wondering what the boy’s last words meant.

He thought deeply but ended up with no answers, and sighed in frustration.

“Ugh… I’m already so tired, and thinking just makes it worse. Maybe I should have a cup of coffee.”

Just as An Dae-Soo walked to the water cooler to make some coffee, two officers returned from their patrol.

“Officer, we’re back.”

“Ah, you’re back?”

“Since you’re having coffee, could you make us some too? It’s already April, but the weather is still so cold.”

“It’s still early in the day, and it’ll warm up soon enough. Thanks for your hard work, here you go.”

An Dae-Soo made coffee for the officers to warm them up after their patrol in the chilly weather. One of the officers glanced at him and asked:

“By the way, why are you wearing a tracksuit? Where’s your uniform?”

At this, An Dae-Soo frowned and muttered:

“Don’t even mention it… While you guys were out on patrol, a bunch of drunk old men came by and threw up all over my uniform. It was a total mess.”

“Ah, sounds like you had a worse day than we did. What about your uniform?”

“It’s in the bathroom. I washed it quickly, but I’ll have to dry it when I get home.”

As An Dae-Soo grimaced, remembering his uniform soaked in vomit, one of the officers laughed and said:

“Ha, Officer, you should really wear your uniform. With that scowl, you really look like a gangster. People will get scared and think you’re a real cop.”

“Hey, what do you mean gangster… I’ll show you what a real gangster looks like—”

Just as An Dae-Soo was about to joke angrily and raise his hand in mock anger, he suddenly froze, his expression blank.

“…Huh?”

He stopped and stared at the black plain tracksuit he was wearing.

It wasn’t his police uniform with his name tag and rank insignia.

And then he remembered.

The boy, Lee Hwi-Joon, had called him:

“Excuse me, Officer An Dae-Soo…?”

It suddenly hit him.

“…Did I ever tell him my name?”

An Dae-Soo thought, his face a picture of surprise.