Chapter 5
"The man who was supposed to kill you."
That night, he dreamed about the target.
Not about killing him.
About him laughing.
San woke at 4:13 a.m.
His hand was already beneath his pillow.
He reached for the gun.
Then stopped.
The room was dark.
His breathing was shallow.
He stared at the ceiling.
He could still hear the laugh.
It shouldn't have mattered.
Dreams were meaningless.
He had killed people after dreaming about them.
He had slept perfectly afterward.
So why was this different?
San turned onto his side.
He closed his eyes.
The answer came immediately.
Because he'd started seeing Wooyoung as a person.
And once you saw someone as a person, killing them became something else.
The third night was the night of the shot.
San lay on the rooftop opposite the hotel.
The rifle was steady.
His body was perfectly still.
His breathing was controlled.
His eye was against the scope.
His finger rested exactly where it needed to be.
Everything was right.
Everything except him.
Wooyoung stepped onto the terrace.
Blonde hair.
White shirt.
Bare feet.
He had apparently come outside without shoes.
San watched him lean against the railing.
Wooyoung looked up at the sky.
San wondered what he was looking at.
Stars?
The moon?
Nothing?
It was stupid.
San knew that.
He was a hired killer.
He wasn't supposed to wonder what his target was thinking.
Then Wooyoung smiled.
For no reason.
And San realized he was smiling too.
The realization frightened him.
He stopped immediately.
"Target is in position."
San heard the voice in his earpiece.
He didn't answer.
"San."
"I'm here."
"Take the shot."
San adjusted his aim.
The crosshair settled over Wooyoung's forehead.
His breathing became audible inside his own head.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
His pulse beat against his cheek where it rested against the rifle.
"Shoot."
San didn't.
"Come on, shoot."
His finger tightened.
Wooyoung scratched his cheek.
Then looked toward the city.
San stared.
"Shoot."
Nothing.
The voice became colder.
"San."
He couldn't.
"Why haven't you fired?"
San's lips parted.
No answer came.
Because what could he say?
Because he's beautiful?
Because he smiled at me?
Because I don't know him?
Because I do?
Because somewhere between the photographs and the rifle scope, the target had become a human being?
Because I don't want to be the reason his eyes close?
None of those answers would matter.
"Last warning."
San swallowed.
"Understood."
"Then shoot."
His finger moved.
A millimeter.
Wooyoung suddenly turned.
Straight toward him.
San froze.
The distance was impossible.
There was no way Wooyoung could see him.
And yet…
Wooyoung stared directly at the rooftop.
At the rifle.
At him.
San's heart stopped.
Wooyoung's expression changed.
The smile disappeared.
His eyes narrowed.
San moved instinctively.
He pulled the rifle away.
A shot cracked from somewhere behind him.
Concrete exploded beside his shoulder.
San rolled.
Another bullet struck the rooftop.
He swore.
There were other shooters.
The assignment had never been as simple as he had been told.
He grabbed the rifle and moved.
Three shots.
Two men.
One dead.
One fleeing.
San didn't think.
He ran down the stairs.
When he reached the street, he saw Wooyoung.
He was standing beneath the hotel awning.
Confused.
Frightened.
Alive.
Their eyes met.
Again.
This time there was no glass between them.
No three hundred meters.
No scope.
No anonymity.
Wooyoung stared at him.
San stared back.
Then Wooyoung said the strangest thing.
"You're the guy from the café."
San stopped.
Of all the things he expected.
That wasn't one of them.
Wooyoung's breathing was fast.
"So it really was you."
San said nothing.
"You were watching me."
San's hand hovered near the gun beneath his jacket.
Wooyoung took one step backward.
San saw the fear.
Something inside him twisted.
"Don't run."
Wooyoung stared.
"That's exactly what someone terrifying says."
Despite everything, San almost laughed.
Almost.
Instead he said.
"They're coming for you."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
That was a lie.
He knew.
And suddenly he understood.
The order hadn't been simply to kill Wooyoung.
It had been to make sure Wooyoung died before he could reveal something.
The other shooters.
The additional security.
The urgency.
The insistence.
There was something in that folder he hadn't seen.
Something someone didn't want Wooyoung to say.
Wooyoung looked at him.
"Who are you?"
San hesitated.
Then.
"The man who was supposed to kill you."