Passion: Suite

Ilrey’s face is in full color too.
I thought that as I met Kim Jeong-pil’s gaze right up close.
Then again, I shouldn’t speak ill of others.
I remembered the jolt of shock when I glanced at the mirror earlier and saw my own face—bruised, mottled in vivid hues. I’d even thought, “I can’t believe I’d still feel like rolling around in bed with a face like that, you’re really something, Ilrey,” and it had struck me how much his stomach must be steel.
“……”
“……”
If you pulled me out into this deserted corridor corner, say what you want, you bastard.
I followed him out of the office. Kim Jeong-pil beckoned me to follow, then strode ahead down a couple flights of stairs to the mid-landing corridor—a place nobody usually passed through. And there, as if squared off in a no-man’s-land, neither of us spoke first.
I glanced at the blood-stained bandage wrapped around his head—dark, crusted dried blood. The wound I’d left when I bashed him with a chair yesterday.
I felt zero remorse. He had it coming. Absolutely deserved it. No apology needed.
“……”
After a moment’s silence, I rolled up my sleeve and displayed my wrists—chafed raw by rough rope, scabbed over—and my taped left hand, its joints snapped out then taped back in place. I saw his eyes twitch. Finally I felt relieved. That’s right. No need to feel sorry.
“No time. Get to the point.”
I looked up coldly and spoke first. The glare in Kim Jeong-pil’s eyes flickered dangerously, then he spat out,
“Hogan’s a wreck.”
“I know.”
“I heard that bastard you’re making eyes at did it.”
“I know that too.”
He didn’t even bother to say he’d been there himself. I braced myself, expecting him to unleash another round of insults at Ilrey. Sure enough, I saw his fist clench, knuckles trembling. His eyes fluttered. Then—
“Are you insane?”
Finally, the usual line. I shot my own brows up. So he’d dragged me out here just to spar one more time before training ends, after I’d hoped to let bygones be bygones?
“Lieutenant Jeong, have you given up your life entirely? You’ve got better prospects. You pick a real man if you’re going to pick someone! You idiot!”
He didn’t argue that Ilrey was unsuitable—no one could. But hearing his face-to-face insult set my blood boiling. I ground my teeth and glared.
“Huh, pick a real man, he says? Guess you’re past calling him a homo, since you tried to jump him yesterday. Homosexuality is no crime, but attempted rape is!”
I jabbed a finger at him. He flinched, snapped his mouth shut. I watched him fumble for words, tongue flicking uselessly, and felt a decade’s worth of tension drain away.
Ah, that’s a relief. He won’t dare call him a “homo” again.
I felt a flicker of satisfaction and pressed on.

“And Ilrey has—well, he’s not perfect, but he’s got his good points!”
“Good points? What good points?!”
Damn him for asking! Now I was the one left speechless. He leveled me with a triumphant stare.
“If you’ve got your wits about you, Lieutenant Jeong, you’d live life with some flexibility instead of making everything so hard!”
How dare he lecture me on life—this smug bastard. I wanted to smack his mouth shut. I snapped back angrily,
“You’re the one who screwed my life up! If it wasn’t for you, I’d be discharged already—and I wouldn’t be living like this!”
Truthfully, I didn’t feel regret or resentment—still, I had to deflate him. I pointed and shouted, “It’s your fault, you!” He glared fiercely.
“Fine! I’ll take responsibility, okay?!”
“Responsibility? How are you going to do that—reverse time?!”
“Get you a real man to date instead, you idiot!”
The hypocrisy and gall made me see red.
“How dare you think you can just decide who I date….”
My gaze swept the empty corridor. If there were a chair here, I’d smash his mouth with it. Would that I had Ilrey’s strength.
“Let’s drop it. Tell me why you called me out, quickly. I’ve got work to finish.”
My body, already exhausted, felt a hundred years older in an instant. He burst out again,
“What’s wrong with your ears? I said I’m telling you to date a real man!”
I pinched my brow. I was a fool to come. I thought maybe he’d apologize, but he had a talent for enraging people.
“I’m not going to take your advice—where the hell would I find a real man around you? Besides, you’re homophobic—are you going to introduce me to an LGBT person?!”
“I never said he was gay—I said I’d take responsibility!”
“Responsibility… What, you going to set me up with a woman? There are guys who bring a woman to ‘fix a homo!’ But I’m not dating women!”
“Do I look like a woman to you, you moron?! I said I’d take responsibility, damn it!”
Cursing volley after volley—my hand shot out, but I paused mid-step. My face twisted—something was off. My comprehension stalled. Then I realized with a start:
“You really think you’re the ‘real man’ you’re talking about?!”
“Why ‘really’?!”
He answered proudly, as though I should be grateful. I froze, staring at him, then sneered,
“Where did you come from, acting all high and mighty? I’m not your plaything—forget it, I’m going.”
I shook my head, utterly wiped out. But that damned bastard still had that fire in his eyes, like he was determined to fight before the day was done.
“If it’s not a joke, what?!”
I turned and stalked off, not caring to argue with his spiteful cries.
“Fine, fine—let’s talk later!”
Without looking back, I waved a hand dismissively. What the hell did he swallow yesterday—ceramic? Suddenly I felt a twinge of unease, a flicker of responsibility:
Has he gotten any wrong hits…?
I frowned, troubled, when a booming shout came from behind.
“Hey!!!”
That was Kim Jeong-pil—his voice like ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) a blade. I felt relieved—he’d saved me. I even felt safe when his hand clamped on my shoulder. In this pattern, he’d spin me around and land a punch—something I could accept.
Clenching my fist to strike back, I turned—
But out of the corner of my eye, I saw something familiar on the upper landing: someone leaning on the railing, watching us.
The man who’d been in an uncommonly good mood since morning—still smiling. Watching our fight as if it delighted him.
I clicked my tongue at the sight—when—
“Jung Tae-ui…!!!”
Kim Jeong-pil yanked me around by the collar—and to my horror, his mouth crashed onto mine.
“—!!!”
I screamed… or tried to, but his mouth swallowed it.
I could have punched him, could have shoved him away, could have backed off at lightning speed. But I froze—my mind utterly blank.
Only our lips met—then his tongue licked against mine. I couldn’t move until the man above stepped back from the railing.
Snapping out of it, I lashed out at Kim Jeong-pil’s head—but it was too late. I’d seen his smile vanish as he watched from the landing above.
Kim Jeong-pil staggered back, grimacing, but didn’t retaliate. He pressed his hand to his mouth, expression awkward.
“I said I wasn’t kidding,” he muttered.
“Yeah, you weren’t kidding. You damn idiot,” I choked out.
Above, the man started down the stairs—neither hurried nor slow, moving toward the stairwell that led back to this corridor. At most a minute or two away.
God. Even if I tried to flee, it wouldn’t help. All I could pray was that he’d see me as no more than the victim… but now—this time—I’m dead.
I thought hard. This wasn’t a joke. Kim Jeong-pil already had a record—I’d saved him once with that chair swing, but this time there was no me to protect him… he would kill me.
I barely registered Kim Jeong-pil’s startled brow raise or his “Hey, someone’s behind you….” That didn’t matter. Behind me—on the upper landing, heading this way, was that man’s back.
So.
I didn’t notice Kim Jeong-pil’s hand shaking as he drew a knife. I didn’t notice when it plunged into my back.
Thud—
The blade buried almost to the hilt. When he pulled it out, it cut as it came, tearing flesh.
“Uh…?”
At first, I didn’t even know it was pain. Then I saw the knife had snagged my shoulder rather than my back, thanks to his push. Warm blood gushed.
I didn’t grasp what was happening as I heard Kim Jeong-pil’s frantic yells or saw Hogan’s demon-faced silhouette raising his own blade. I only understood when Hogan’s fierce eyes met mine.
“—Hogan.”