Sung Gyu couldn’t stay in their presence any longer. He bowed at them several times in their absolute silence, passed his letter of resignation to Minister Baek before he fled out the door. He approached his own office in hurried steps, and as he passed, he informed his secretary in a thick voice, not to allow anybody, anyone at all, into his room. The secretary wordlessly agreed. But the troubled look on her face seemed to speak volumes. Sung Gyu went inside and slammed the door behind him. He leaned against its cold mahogany surface and scanned the vast space before him which used to be almost his second home for the past few months. It felt like a dream for him now; surreal, untrue. He had never belonged here. It was never his place, for certain things were never meant to be.

Sung Gyu returned to his table and started to gather all of his things; the little trinkets and ornaments he’d kept there, the Mario figurine that he’d used as a paper weight which Minister Baek commented on and told him that he was still a child. The photograph of Yeri and him from their wedding photoshoot which he’d kept under a pile of papers, forgotten, for a long while, and his name placard; the thick resin with his name proudly glimmering in white along with his designation. All of these that used to be parts of him did not define him anymore; it was as if the part of him that these things had shaped had had a brutal, untimely death.

Although he had impulsively gathered everything, Sung Gyu didn’t know what to do with them, so he dumped them back on the table, and the photograph fell on the floor with a clutter, its frame coming apart. He stared at the fallen frame by his feet for the longest time. A sad, cruel twist of fate, it was. The frame had shattered in the same way that their marriage had. Sung Gyu felt a bitter laughter coming up his throat. God had only been cruel to him. He’d always been cruel to him. Although he always tried not to put the blame upon her, at times, Sung Gyu couldn’t help himself; he couldn’t help the thought that, had he not married Song Yeri, this would not have even happened to him. He wouldn't be in this place, fighting a battle he was never meant to fight. 
He gave up preparing to leave, in the end. He couldn’t until his letter of resignation was approved of. Until then, he was still the vice minister of the legislation. Until then he still had reports to approve. But he couldn’t even find the sheer energy to do so, for, the moment he opened his computer to find the reports in the system, his personal phone started buzzing again. Sung Gyu had been doing his level best the whole day to ignore it, but the phone had been relentless since that morning, and Sung Gyu was perfectly aware what, or who, rather, was on the other end on all these occasions. She wouldn’t stop at a call, she would message him as well. He had looked at them once as he couldn’t stop himself; he even typed a response to her, but then he decided otherwise, tossed his phone away and let out the loudest grown of frustration. Sung Gyu had thought he would do well away from her, that he could function rather humanly without her presence like he had done for a while before all of this happened. As time progress, however, it was becoming physically impossible for him. Sung Gyu wanted to hear what she had to say, read what she had sent; he wanted her input, her opinion on what he had just done, and most importantly, he needed her comfort, her endless optimism. He wanted her to pat on his knee once more and tell him that he did well, smile at her in this brilliant way she did and tell him that things were going to be alright.

After a few long, frustrating minutes, Sung Gyu gave up trying. He picked up his phone and went through all her messages again, both heavy-hearted and enraged.

‘I’m not sorry for what I did’ she had told him, and he found himself reading her words in her voice in his mind. ‘I don’t regret one bit what happened, and I’m not going to stay away from you no matter how many times you’d ask me to’

In the next message, she had continued. ‘You don’t have to reply. I understand how you feel. It must be hard right now. I forgive you for the things that you said’

‘You don’t have to talk to me now’ She had sent as a final note. ‘But when you feel you’re ready, call me, meet me, whatever you prefer. I will wait to until you come around’

Sung Gyu wasn’t sure, by that point, what hurt him the most; the words that she’d told him, the fact that she’d been hurt by his words yet she’d forgiven him or this persistent urge that he had to see her, hear her and feel her again. He didn’t want to drag her deeper into the abyss that he’d fallen into, and the more she remained involved with him, the deeper into this pit he’d, although unintentionally, drag her into. But what if...what if she was also the support that he needed to climb back out again? What if he needed her, above everything else, to win this battle, to fight alongside with him, to keep him grounded when nobody else could?

Sung Gyu had to fight his urge to call her so many times; so to ease his concerns, he reread all the messages they had previously exchanged. They never talked about work in the messenger as she feared if they ever went to court, their messages would be traced  too. Yet, they talked about everything else under the sun; song and movie recommendations, food deliveries around the place, her random senseless questions and his one worded responses in his early days talking to her. She’d asked him about Momo one too many times, he realised. She’d asked him to send her photos of Momo where many times he’d replied with a no or an angry emoji, but at some point of their acquaintanceship he had actually replied to her with photos of Momo, her lying daintily across the sofa, her her face, her patently sitting and waiting until he filled her bowls, once even of her getting a bath. He hadn’t realised that he’d spoken to her way more than he’d spoken to anyone else; not to his friends,  certainly not to his parents or sister but Jung Hyerim. He laughed at her older responses, the memes and emojis she had sent in reply to photos of Momo he had sent, their nonsensical conversations, all the good times they’d had. Hyerim, in this short span of time, had gotten close to him in a way that he had never imagined. He had never thought things would take this turn, that he would find solace and reliance in the person he’d least expected, but he certainly had, and now Sung Gyu missed her. It had only been a few hours since he’d told her to stay away from him, yet he missed her so much.

He probably wasn’t thinking straight, therefore, when he picked up his phone, searched for her number and called it. He wasn’t thinking straight when he laid it down and sat still with his hands grasped together, resting against his lips and waited, watching it ring. Sung Gyu hadn’t thought she’d pick up, but around the seventh ring, she did. In the quietness of the room, her voice echoed and bounced off the walls like a beckoning, and like it had for the past few weeks, Sung Gyu's heart started pounding. He didn’t know what to say.

“Sung Gyu?” She called him. She didn’t say his complete name very often that whenever she did, it sounded so special for him. “Sung Gyu? Are you there?”

Yet just as he was about to respond to her, the door to his office was pulled open; there was no knocking, no excuses, and followed by his disgruntled secretary, Minister Baek stomped inside. 

“Vice-Minister Kim? You and I need to talk”

“Sung Gyu?” Hyeim’s voice called again, now sounding concerned; and in panic, he cut the call and tossed his phone into his drawer. 

It was not every day that Minister Baek crashed into his office like this. In fact, she never had. She was a wise, calm and courteous woman, she had never lost her composure in front of him nor anyone. Seeing that she had, Sung Gyu could tell that something had certainly gone wrong.

“Minister Baek?” He called, now a little worried. He could see fire blazing in her eyes. 

“Secretary Kim, turn the TV on please” Minister Baek ignored him and instructed his secretary who quickly and diligently followed as she was told. The TV that was set up in his office room -yet he never used- came to life, and Secretary Kim quickly switched through the channels until she stopped at a news broadcast of a leading national channel. It took a while for his eyes and mind to adjust to what he was seeing. When he did, Sung Gyu felt his entire world collapse around him.

“And you want to quit?” Minister Baek exclaimed, gesturing at the TV in rage. “While that man is disrespecting the country’s law like that, you still want to quit?”

Sung Gyu wasn’t quite following what was happening, his mind in a whirlwind. He could see the images on the TV, he could see the voices, he could read out the words, yet they were all registering in his mind separately, slowly, one at a time. There was only so much that his tired mind could take, and he felt as if he’d reached his limit by then.

On the TV, as he easily recognised, was Judge Ryu Wonho, the former presiding judge of the Belle-Vie case, the one who’d passed a wrongful judgement based on manipulated evidence and witness statements and acquitted a offender, doing injustice to the victim. And Judge Ryu Wonho was on national TV eight years later, holding a press conference to the media who’d spread his words like wildfire. He had been giving statements to the prosecution, he’d said, and had been positively involved in the investigations and background checks before his appointment at the supreme court.

“I don’t see what this outrage is about?” He continued, laughing slightly, smiling at the young wide eyed reporters before him as cameras clicked away. “I did not do anything wrong. I passed the judgement based on the evidence and witnesses presented to me at the court that day, nothing else. Why am I the one being investigated for this? I only did my job?” Another non committal laughter.

Sung Gyu tightened his fists on his sides, his heart pounding. He was so predictable, Ryu Wonho. Sung Gyu could almost tell what he was about to say next, and that exactly was what he feared the most.

“Is it true that the witness statements and evidence were tampered?” One of the reporters asked, and in a buzz, many voices followed after him. Judge Ryu looked at the gathered crowd, his eyes scanning them. 

“Yes, it is true'' He replied. Sung Gyu held his breath.

“And is it true that you were involved in this?” Another reporter went on.

“No, it is not” Judge Ryu lied through his teeth. Sung Gyu knew what happened that day in the mediation room, he was there, although his memory was bleek from that time, he could most certainly remember that Ryu was being paid for it by the executive, so was the prosecutor who handled the case, and he was only there to facilitate this exchange, to make sure it took place smoothly and keep quiet about it. 

“Then do you know who was involved in it? Are you able to name any names?”

Another round of a buzz circulated until judge Ryu raised his hand. Then it died down. He looked at all of them rather gravely, put his hand down and looked straight into the camera. “The truth is, well, I have sworn not to reveal this back in the day...but I had, I had to in the current investigations to the prosecutor responsible of it, so I  believe me mentioning it now would make no difference”

Sung Gyu’s hand grabbed hard onto the mahogany of his table, and the broken skin of his knuckles pained. He couldn’t care less.

“Can you elaborate it more, sir?” The reporters pushed on. Ryu nodded in response and looked straight at the camera again. 

“It is someone well known actually…” He hesitated, laughed awkwardly, rubbed his chin. “It’s quite...controversial, actually...as he was admired by so many young women in this country…”

“The despicable bastard” Swore Minister Baek, yet her voice sounded a distance away from him.

“It’s Kim Sung Gyu” Judge Ryu said, pursed his lips and shook his head. “It’s him who initiated this, facilitated this, pushed it and made it happen...sometimes, in situations like this, it becomes difficult for the judge to make a credible judgement as well. We work with the evidence and witness statements we receive at the court, that is how the civil court works, and-,”

“ing bull” Minister Baek swore for the umpteenth time, reached for the TV remote and turned it off. Sung Gyu, at that moment, felt like he was floating. He felt completely numb as his entire life fell apart. From this point onwards, there was no going back. It was out there now, out in the open for the world  to see. Now in the eyes of this country, this society, not only was Sung Gyu a politician who had risen to the top riding the coattails of powerful political personalities, now he was also a judge who had manipulated evidence of a crime against half the population of this country, shamelessly, and walked away. Sung Gyu had never thought that his life would come to a finality like this; but at that point, it certainly had. 

He felt like he was fainting, like he was about to fall. He rounded the table, staggering on his feet and fell into his chair again. Things on his table scattered onto the floor; the old documents, the Super Mario paper weight. He buried his face in both his hands and tried to breathe again.

“I am not going to let you leave, Kim Sung Gyu” Minister Baek was telling him, although he was hardly following her. “If you quit now, you’re letting them win. If you quit now, you’re letting that criminal who’s taking the respectful law of this country as a joke to win and walk away! Man up, Minister Kim! Pull yourself together! This is not the time to back away-,”

“Please…” Sung Gyu found himself muttering to her as he realised his head was about to explode. “Not...not now…”

The quietness that fell after then was thick and audible which continued on for a long while. He was so overwhelmed that he was hardly aware of what was happening around him. He could feel his secretary’s eyes upon him, he felt Minister Baek gaze at him. He could hear her muttering something to his secretary, her replying, all of which he couldn’t catch. He heard then multiple footsteps in the direction of his office, his chief of staff and guards, he assumed, who were held back by his secretary again. “Leave him be'' He heard her say, and soon, the door closed behind him. Sung Gyu believed that she and his staff would handle the millions of calls that would come in his direction; the other ministers, the judges, the press; all the people he had no energy to expend on. His phones were buzzing too, yet again, all three of them. He took out the ones in his pockets and tossed them aside. allowed the one in his drawer to buzz away. With his head still in his hands, Sung Gyu remained still for the longest time, trying to accept and acknowledge the fact that his life was truly, doubtlessly, over.

What would his parents say now? his father already despised him; even more so after the unexpected divorce. He despised him earlier before then for the rash decisions he had made. ‘You are no fit for the ministry, to Sung Gyu, you don’t have what it takes’, his father had told him, and a few months later, Sung Gyu had ever so proudly proved him wrong. Now it felt like nothing but a curse to him. Perhaps his father was right, like he’d always been. Having been in the field for a long time, his father had an ample amount of experience in this, and certainly had an uncanny ability to foresee a lot of incidents in the political arena. Political arguments with him were hardly winnable, for he, with his knowledge and expertise, had always had the upper hand. Compared to him, Sung Gyu was nothing; there’s never been any doubt about that. He would have now disappointed him further. He wouldn’t be allowed to meet his mother or sister again after this, shunned and ostracised. He would be disowned, perhaps, for the shame and humiliation he would bring. If he had felt he wasn’t their son all this time, he had still been the youngest Kim for a while. But not any more. He would no longer be wanted in their lives now. What broke him the most was that he’d possibly never get to see his niece and nephew again. 

In the long hours of quietness that passed, Sung Gyu just sat in his seat and allowed time to take its course. He contemplated his next moves. The public outrage will be massive, the protests will increase in multitudes. The entrance will be swarmed with reporters upon his exit and arrival, his personal space continuously and violently violated. The better option would have been for him to resign, let the law handle everything else, let them decide his fate, and he would serve a jail sentence if he had to, give up his fortune as compensation, perhaps, move out into a smaller secluded city or a different country, start his life from the scratch. But he knew none of that would be possible. Minister Baek would not let him leave even if he wanted to, and Sung Gyu’s silence and compliance to judge Ryu would certainly let him win. He thought back to what Jung Hyerim would tell him now. She’d have kept up her positivity until the end, held her head high in confidence. She would want him to fight back, and would say that she’d help him to fight back. But what could he do if he no longer had the energy to? What could he do if all he wanted right now was to give up trying?

Somewhere into that afternoon, his secretary returned to his office, surprisingly carrying a tall cup of iced americano in her hand. She had worked for him only a while, yet she knew his favorite coffee shop order by heart. And that only made him feel even worse. 

“I hope this will make you feel better...sir” She said as she daintily set it on a coaster. He muttered his gratitude, having no strength to meet her eyes. She bowed and stood back. “Sir, Prosecutor Lee contacted you, he would like to meet you after lunch today”

He had assumed that much. After today, he would not be meeting fellow ministers, other officials and other notable politicians. Instead, his schedules will be full of interrogations, meetings with the prosecution, the police, his lawyer, court hearings and press conferences.
Sung Gyu only hummed in response.

His secretary hesitated for a moment and she told him in a quiet voice. “I hope you are doing well, sir”

Only then could he lift his head and give her a small, subtle smile. “Just a little shocked, Secretary Kim” He cleared his  throat and turned away. “Is there...is there anything else?”

“Nothing at the moment” She replied. He could see her moving, however; he could see her retrieve a folded piece of paper from the back of her tablet and slowly placed it upon his desk. “And Minister Baek asked me to return this'' She said. Sung Gyu only glanced at what she’d left for him. He was not surprised; it was his resignation letter.

“She, umm...also asked me to pass to you that you have been released from your official work for the next two weeks...sir” The secretary went on.

“Released from my official work?” Sung Gyu asked her tiredly, looking from underneath his hands which he still had buried in his hair. 

“Yes...as you had all of your leaves left, she asked me to allocate two weeks of it for now, and informed me that you’re free to take the rest if you wish to”

That was something he did not wish to think about yet. Fourteen days of not working sounded good enough. But fourteen days of not working didn’t mean in any sense that he would have fourteen days for himself. Sung Gyu would have interrogations and investigation proceedings to attend to. Life would become more hectic than it already was; she’d only released him so he could get his together, and that didn’t make him feel any better.

“Okay, thank you” he replied with a heavy sigh. “And...how are things going now?”

A moment of silence, and “Not very good sir”

“There must be a lot of things for you to attend to?”

“We’re doing our best, sir”

He nodded, for he knew that they were. It was a comfort knowing at that time that he could at least trust his staff in this to take care of things that were beyond his control. Sung Gyu wouldn’t have been able to confront the media or the condemnation of the general public in the state that he was in at that moment.

“Just remind me...when it was time for the meeting with the prosecution” He told her in the end, and she left him at that, to the deafening sound of his own hateful monologues and the painful silence of his room.

Sung Gyu didn’t have lunch; instead, he had his iced Americano down to the melted watery bits of its ice as he went through his inbox full of reports, memos and documents that needed his attention. He ignored all the emails that had spammed him with hateful messages, notifications from various news sites which had slandered his name. For now he felt safer to stay away from the storm until he felt ready to face it full on. Lunch hour passed by too slow, and at about two in the afternoon, his secretary informed him of Prosecutor Lee’s arrival. Sung Gyu fixed his table and fixed himself, asked his staff to prepare coffee for Howon and waited patiently in his seat, the initial shock of the incident having only slightly worn off. 

Howon was just as firm and composed as he had been that morning. His face was expressionless as he greeted him and took the seat before him. Secretary Kim arrived with a warm cup of coffee which she set on the table carefully; even after she left, closing the door behind her, the room remained silent for a while.

“Things took an unexpected turn, didn’t they?” Howon was the first one to speak after a while.

“I had expected that to happen,” Sung Gyu lied, albeit sternly, keeping his composure and leaned forward, resting his arms upon the table. “How are the investigations going, Howon Ssi?”

Howon sat back, arms folded on his lap. “I had come to talk to you about it”

Sung Gyu sighed heavily. “If you have come to ask me about names and faces I don’t recognize, let me tell you again, at no point did I meet the witnesses. Not eight years ago, not recently”

“That’s not what you implied in the morning, Sung Gyu-Ssi” Howon raised his brows.

He looked away, stared at the blank grey wall of his room and tried to pull his thoughts together. “Howon-Ssi…” He turned back to him. “If someone crashes into your house at seven in the morning and destroys everything, drives your pet out of your home and asks you about something you had no idea about, how do you think you’d react?”

Howon smirked, his lips pulled to a side and leaned forward himself. “Don’t you think you’re being a little...cowardly, Sung Gyu-Ssi?”

For a moment, Howon reminded him of his father. For him, showing a flicker of emotions was cowardly, caring for anything that was not human was cowardly, and reacting the way he’d done that morning certainly would have appeared so for him as well. Sung Gyu had believed Yeri would settle for someone who wouldn’t see emotions as a weakness, but he supposed that she was tired of anyone who’d be driven by them, just like himself.

Sung Gyu pursed his trembling lips and looked away. “I know…” He sighed, looking down at his clenched hands. “That no matter what I try or do, Judge Ryu would have the upper hand. I can tell you the entire truth right now, but you still wouldn’t believe me. I’d continue to be the criminal, Judge Ryu would have his go at the supreme court…” He lifted his head and looked at him. “That would be the ideal way around this, wouldn’t it?”

Howon too, let out a heavy sigh. “Sung Gyu-Ssi...I stand impartial in this situation” He replied with resolve. “Until the evidence clearly points to either one of you, I can’t make a judgement on who has done wrong. Right now both of you have evidence pointed at your direction, especially since you have both been involved in this. Now all I can do is find who the lesser evil is” He reached for his mug of coffee, had a sip and set it back down on the coaster before he met Sung Gyu’s eyes. “So yes, tell me everything that you know, everything that happened. This time, I would ask no questions, I would let you recall everything. And we will see how the rest of this pan out”

Sung Gyu contemplated his offer for a moment. He sounded convincing, and perhaps quite objective as he claimed as well. Sung Gyu didn’t have a good judgement on personalities like he did with cases, so at that moment, he trusted Yeri’s judgement. She wouldn’t have married him if he was someone who couldn’t make the right call. He turned to Howon again, and nodded in response. “I’m not telling you that I wasn’t involved” He started with the truth, with conviction. “I indeed was involved in it, but not in the way that the accusation made it sound. I was merely a facilitator, a bystander. I looked, I watched, I made sure things went smoothly and reported to the relevant people, then I stayed silent for the next eight years until it completely left my mind” His eyes were focused on the brown leather of Howon’s  wrist watch, an expensive Cartier. He wouldn’t need Ryu’s money to send Sung Gyu to jail. “Judge Ryu...he-he had a deal” So Sung Gyu continued, a little more confident now.  “He would pass the judgement in a particular way, would he receive a certain amount, the lawyer in charge of that case would receive a certain amount for taking care of the witness statements, the evidence presented. What the original statements were, how the evidence had been, frankly I had no idea...I only did this as a favor for my former mother in law, as a help for a friend of hers. I only ‘looked into it’, nothing more”

Howon appeared completely undeterred even at the mention of his own future mother in law. 

“Did you receive any money out of it?”

It would have been better if he had, then at least he’d have gotten something out of it but-. “I didn’t. I didn’t demand any”

Howon hummed, nodded and had another sip of coffee.

“What happened in the mediation room that day?” He continued. 

Sung Gyu had thought long and hard about it; there was only one conclusion he could come down to. “I believe it was a set up,” He said.

“How so?”

“Well…” He sighed heavily and leaned back into his chair. “Howon-Ssi, in the mediation room, unless the mediating judge does it, nothing else would get recorded. This discussion could have happened anywhere else, but it happened in the mediation room, and judge Ryu was the one who led it, he recorded it so he made it happen in that exact place for a reason. I was asked to give opinions, and I did. I understand the gravity of the things I’ve said there, once that I shouldn’t have, and unfortunately I’m the only one who even says controversial things in the recording...but it’s only that far I was involved in it. I attended the court hearings, yet I was there with everyone else. But I am not guilty of anything that happened with the statements or the evidence”

Howon hummed in response. “The witnesses have all claimed that they were approached by you; you’re saying this did not happen?”

“It did not,” Sung Gyu sternly replied. 

“You said you don’t remember these people”

“I said I didn't recognise them,” Sung Gyu replied sternly this time. “Please understand the difference”

“Do you remember where you were on the two days that they say they met you?”

Sung Gyu sighed heavily. “It’s been eight years, Howon Ssi”

Howon nodded. “So we could say nothing significant happened on those two days that you could recall”

“Yes” Sung Gyu nodded. “Nothing that I can recall”

“And did you ever come across the evidence that was presented before they were presented in the court?”

As far as he remembered, they were all circumstantial. Text messages, phone calls, emails, calendar appointments; nothing physical and everything that could be altered easily. Yet, none of the original evidence he had come across at any point.

“None” He sincerely replied.

“Were you truly unaware of the court documents that were found in your flat?”

Sung Gyu shook his head. How they’d come to her hands was clear to him now. He could remember the time that they went out and he invited her inside and she cleaned the mess he’d made, but he didn’t notice her sneaking out any documents from him. He was pretty sure that it must have happened on that day, right under his nose, just so he wouldn’t recognise them when the prosecution come to investigate his house and she could confront them without his expressions showing a flicker of recognition. Hyerim was indeed two steps ahead of him. 

“Were you aware that Officer Jung had found them?” Howon pushed on.

“I was not” He told him. “It is true that my flat was intruded, and I do not keep my guards in my personal space as a principle so from NIS officer Jung did offer to keep an eye upon any more similar intrusions...she must have found it as she was also investigating what happened that night. I was unaware of all of this”

“And the hand written information?” Howon raised his brows, his legs crossed.

“They were given to me by officer Jung as well just as she said...we believe that the witnesses will yet again be threatened into testifying against me and we were hoping to pass the message over to my lawyer so he could contact them first...but I was not able to meet him for that”

He nodded, nodded and nodded before he had the last of his coffee. He pulled out a thin recorder from his pocket which was blinking red still. 

“Okay” Howon sighed heavily and looked at him with a sense of finality and pressed the recorder to make it stop. “As it happens now, further investigations are underway. I received the forensic results of both the documents, and the document you said you received from officer Jung will not be submitted as evidence, so-,” He put a hand in his pocket and pulled out the list of badly written witness information before he placed it on his desk.
“As for the statements made by judge Ryu…” He went on, sitting back. “I believe a statement should be released in defense from your side as well, Sung Gyu-Ssi. It is a time to stay resilient and vigilant...anything could happen, things could turn, we can never say”

“I’m aware,” Sung Gyu replied. “And I agree”

“Well then” Howon nodded and finally climbed up on his feet. Sung Gyu did too, and Howon reached over the table, a hand extended. Sunggyu took it in his own, and noted that he had a firm, distinct shake of hands. A man that can be trusted, he could tell.

“Sung Gyu-Ssi...apologies for what happened in the morning...and thank you, for cooperating”

Sung Gyu attempted to smile in return, appreciating the positive outcome of their discussion. “You do your job well,” He told him. “I’m looking forward to working with you too, Howon Ssi”

Howon nodded. “Will meet you again”

He nodded in return. “You too”

Somehow after his discussion with Howon, Sung gyu started to see things in a newer light. Perhaps they weren’t as bad as Sung Gyu had initially thought they were, perhaps he still stood a chance if he did fight back. Howon sounded...reassuring, if anything. His ability to stay impartial, his conviction, his sincerity had in a strange way given him a sense of positivity, to hope for a better outcome and not give up trying. His impression on Howon changed altogether, and Sung Gyu actually looked at better ways to take part in the investigation, what he could do to turn it to weigh more in the positive direction. 

Therefore later in the day, he went to meet Minister Baek again. She was surprised to see him upon her doorstep, but warmly welcomed him inside nevertheless. There he apologised to her for his rough actions profusely, told her that he'd reflect on himself and be more thoughtful and considerate, not forgetting to pay his gratitude to her for being supportive throughout and also for the leaves she’d granted for him without even him asking her. 

“But if you allow me to, I would like to continue working while being actively involved in the investigations as well” Sung Gyu informed her. “I have...understood the gravity of the situation, and I repent on my past actions deeply. But I also believe I had been given a chance to make things right again”

Minister Baek was delighted to hear his interest to continue, he could see it in her eyes, in the way they widened, in the way they glowed. Sung Gyu wasn’t sure what had pushed him to pick up his pieces and stand up strong again. Perhaps it was the way Ryu had put him down on the national TV in front of the whole country, perhaps it was Minister Baek’s reaction, the way she had immediately trusted him and taken his side, or it could even be how his staff had carried the weight for him for the past few hours which he must take upon himself now, and perhaps even the honest conversation that he had had with Howon. It was probably even Jung Hyerim, her voice working in the back of his mind, her sacrifices of the past few weeks, staying by his side. After all she’d done, what he was doing now would be exactly what she would want him to do. Sung Gyu could easily give up now, but that would mean he would put so many people down all at once. Would he let Judge Ryu win, he was also doing wrong to the victims of the Belle Vie case once all over again. He could perhaps veer things off course, if he tried to. It would take effort, it would take struggle. But he couldn’t back down once he had come this far.

“And I would also like to have a press conference, Minister Baek” He told her, feeling quite confident of his decision. 

“To retaliate for what he did to you?” Minister Baek asked him, a strange smile on her lips.

Sung Gyu hadn’t really thought of it that way. His attempt was to set stones on clearing his name, but that could also be a start.

“A wise idea, Minister Kim,” She continued. “We must let Ryu have a taste of his own medicine. Talk to your staff about it. we will have it arranged”

After he got off work, his chief of staff came to him in all seriousness and informed him that things were not all that good outside. He was aware of this too, Minister Baek had told him, but he’d expected it as well. Sometimes reporters were like flies, gathering at one turd from another. He was pretty sure they must have been lurking around the court in bunches around the time Judge Ryu got off work as well, trying to collect their daily titbits. On top of the reporters, the entrance was swamped by the grassroot organizations’ protests and they’ve certainly multiplied in numbers after the press con with judge Ryu. Minister Baek had discussed again with him what needed to be done about him being dragged into the Jang Hyunsu scandal and he’d agreed to allowing them to do an investigation upon it as well. It could affect his position, certainly, but not in terms of nepotism as there certainly hadn’t been any. ‘Be prepared for anything, Minister Kim’ She had told him before he left, and that’s what he was trying to do. Trying to prepare for anything. Try to be stronger after the storm had swept across, doing his best in the aftermath.

His car was parked right in front of the back entrance, a few feet away so that he could easily make it inside without much hassle despite the reporters gathering around him. He could have responded to them, but he would be in a better, bigger audience the next day, so he didn’t take the chances. They yet again took a detour, and Dong Woo called him up on his work phone, telling that he would meet him.

He was surprised to find his number flashing on his work phone, because Dong Woo never really contacted him on that. It took a while for the realisation to hit him. After the call he’d impulsively taken to Hyerim, he’d tossed his personal phone into the drawer but never really took it out again. It must be ringing off on its own in the dark of his office room; his sister, his mother, Yeri too perhaps, and most importantly, Jung Hyerim. His heart sank at the thought of it, the thought of her having been cut off unexpectedly and never gotten back to amid a crisis. But he couldn’t contact her again, he hadn’t her number with him. He would have to meet her in person to clear things out, to talk.

He couldn’t meet Dong Woo in person given how the things were going, so he picked him up from his firm, parked his car in the parking lot and while his guards were on the look-out outside, Sung Gyu and Dong Woo had their crucial conversations inside the car. Sung Gyu took out the information Hyerim had given him, glanced down at her messy writing as a knot formed in his throat, then handed it over to Dong Woo.

“I got this from an NIS officer who was investigating the recording. These are the information of the witnesses” Sung Gyu told him urgently. “It’s probably going to be a hard shot, they would have gotten to them by now, but let's do our best, Dong Woo-yah”

Dong Woo already knew how the case was going so far. Judge Ryu was dead set on framing him and putting all the blame on him so he could get to the supreme court position with a clear record; in the same manner and in the same fervour, Sung Gyu and his side had to fight back to put the charge on the ones who need to be charged.

“Got it” Dong Woo nodded gravely in return. “And hyung, about the…”

The two of them talked about major and minor details of the case for the next half an hour all until it was time for Dong Woo to leave. Sunggyu watched him return to his car from the half opened shutter before they hit the road again. Evening had already begun to fall by then, the sky taking over a breathtaking shade of pink and lavender. The storm had died down for the night, only to start at full force again the next day. He had only a few hours of calmness before then, and during that calmness, he had things to do.

First and foremost, he had to find Jung Hyerim. He had to tell her everything, how he felt now, what turns things had taken and most importantly, to apologise to her what happened earlier that day, to know how she was doing, how her own crisis at the station went. It couldn’t have gone well for her, given that she had possibly disrupted an official investigation by conducting one of her own on the sidelines. He had to know all about it, but for that, he had to find her, and without his phone, Sung gyu didn’t know where to start. He went home first, checked up on Momo as an obligation, ignored his messy flat and set out in search for Hyerim. He tried her flat first. She had to be home around this time, she would be, unless she was at work again. He knocked on the door, rang her bell, earned a confused, annoyed glance from the older lady who occupied the other flat on their floor and deduced that she wasn’t home. Hyerim wasn’t someone who ignored the doorbell or fell asleep at odd times. Just in case, then, he also tried the rooftop; but it was cold, dark and empty, just as they’d left it the last time. There was no sign of her.

He went down to the supermarket then. He didn’t know what he expected. given the situation, it was the place she was least likely to be. When he did not find her there after having walked through the aisles a few times, he concluded that she was still at work. It was only then that he did the one thing that he truly despised. Sung Gyu stepped out of the supermarket, out into the vast lobby, took out his work phone and dialled a number he never expected he would. Woohyun picked up after a while.

“Sung Gyu-Ssi '' he told him in greeting, his voice calm as usual. Sung Gyu panicked immediately. He just didn’t know what to say.

“Hello, um, Woohyun-Ssi...how-how are the things going with the umm…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The investigation?”

Sung Gyu had almost nothing to know about it as he was already informed upon all of them by Jung Hyerim.  But he couldn’t possibly ask about her from her ex boyfriend straight ahead.

“Well, we’ve learned now that the recording had come from the court” Woohyun informed him. “And we’ve already identified all the voices in it so it could be presented as evidence in the court”

That was a piece of information he did know, but he had to act conversational although he was nervously pacing the hallway.

“I see, um…” He looked around himself, worried if there were anyone who would recognise him. He had never had that concern before, as everyone in the apartment complex pretty much minded their own business; but he could never be too certain how they would take it with the new developments. “Woohyun-Ssi…” He then launched into what he’d called him about. “I actually wanted to talk to officer Jung about something, but I don’t have her number with me now…” He rubbed the side of his nose and winced in disbelief that he was actually doing this. “Is-is she around?”

There was a moment of silence as Sung Gyu waited impatiently. A pair of women passed by, giving him an odd look. He quickly turned to his back and lowered his head. It hadn’t happened before, being a popular politician. But now he felt and exposed being out in the open as himself without the presence of his guards. 

“Sung Gyu-Ssi...she hasn't been in since afternoon,” Woohyun said, making his heart fall through the floor. “Something...happened...and I’m afraid she won't be coming into work for a while. Now that the prosecution had taken over the investigation, I won’t be involved largely in it anyway, so-,”

“Right, right-” Sung Gyu nodded vigorously and his breath hitched in his throat. Something happened, her not going to work anymore...Woohyun’s words started a storm much worse than Judge Ryu’s earlier that day, and his head was spinning with worry, with guilt, with emotions he could no longer explain. 
“I-um...thank you, Woohyun-Ssi…” He hurriedly replied, cut off the line, walked to a nearby wall and leaned his forehead against it, his eyes closed tight. It was exactly what Sung Gyu had feared would happen. It was exactly what he’d been so worried about if Hyerim continued to be so impulsive and reckless. He could have stopped it from happening had he stayed away from her, kept her away from being too involved and stopped her from taking rash, badly-calculated decisions. But he hadn’t. He hadn’t stopped her, he hadn’t kept her away. Nothing he would do now would change much of it, and he who allowed it to happen, he who allowed her to do what she’d done was entirely at fault.

He tried to catch his breath, his forehead pressed against his arm as he remained leaning against the wall. The rest of the world passed by around him. clocks ticked, light became brighter, the halls became more bustling with people that he barely knew. Sung Gyu felt lost for a moment, the same feeling he’d felt of a crippling city, a raging storm had him stifled for a moment, but slowly, Sung Gyu was able to gather himself again. It was the thought of her out there in the vast world somewhere, trying to get to him but not going through, drowning in her own worries that had him coming back to his senses again. Sung Gyu wasn’t sure what came over him, but he had to find her, somehow. He had to apologise to her, hold her, if he had to and make sure that she was safe again.

Sung Gyu took off in a fast walk, out of the apartment complex and out into the busy streets. It was late in the evening, the sky having taken up a deep blue. For a weekday it was still pretty crowded and he kept running into people, earning angry glares and side eyed glances, but he couldn’t care less. Sung Gyu had to find her. He didn’t know how or from where, but he had to.
Hyerim didn’t always drive to work. On most occasions she would take the bus or the subway, so he found himself searching at the subway entrance, then the closest bus stop to the apartment, both of which had no sign of her. He walked aimlessly for a while, looking at unknown faces, searching for a trace of her that he would barely recognise. He passed by the roadside eatery that they’d once had drinks and dinner in, so he’d looked inside as well, knowing fully well he wouldn't find her there. Hyerim wouldn’t go out and drink on her own, not at a moment like this. If anything, she could be out there too, searching for him.

After that, he naturally found himself walking the ‘wrong’ way home. He didn’t know what led him in this direction, but something seemed to tell him that he’d find her there, somehow. Something seemed to tell him that she would be there too, searching for him the same way that he had. He half ran-half walked down the gravelly path through the park, along the line of trees which had the dainty wooden benches that they’d sat on the last time, searching if she was in any of them as well. Then he came to a clearing, across which was the children’s playground behind their apartment complex. Sung Gyu crossed the clearing, approached the playground, turned a full circle as if that would give him even a glimpse of her, then he halted. He halted, he crouched down on the ground and tried to catch his breath again. Sung Gyu wasn’t sure what he was doing by then, where else he could search, how else he could find her. Only one thought remained in his mind, and that was that he just somehow had to. 

Sung Gyu had only gathered himself again and climbed up on his feet when his fate, yet again, worked in the strangest ways. He remembered his sister once telling him that sometimes, all the stars and planets aligned for you if something was meant to happen, to make it happen. He had never thought about it before, never knew how true and real this could be. But at that moment, as the night became darker and more uncertain, as the late summer breeze blew upon him, carrying the scent of damp earth, the scent of lavender; all the stars and planets aligned for him and he believed in fate again.

“Sung Gyu?”

Her voice was subtle in the beginning, gentle, a mere mumble in the wind, but he heard her. Sung gyu turned around, and she stood right across from him at the end of the playground, emerging through the dark as he stood still by the swings which  languidly moved on their own.

“S-Sung Gyu?” She called again, and he could clearly see her by then; the redness of her eyes, the streaks of tears down her cheeks, the mess of her hair. Hyerim had been crying. The Jung Hyerim he’d known for five years had never cried. She didn’t. She wouldn’t. She was the strongest, the most resilient woman he had ever known, the new-found pillar, the wall of strength in his life. For the first time ever, Sung Gyu was seeing her cry.

“Hyerim?” He called her, albeit gently, too overwhelmed and uncertain of how to respond. Sung Gyu had only spoken to the strong Hyerim, the Hyerim that nothing he or the world said could knock down. He had only known to rely on her. Now he didn’t know how to comfort her. “Hyerim…”

Just as he watched her, Hyerim broke down again.

“Where were you? Where the were you?” She exclaimed, her voice echoing in the quietness of the night. “I tried to call you again and again and again, and that was the only number I knew but you wouldn’t even pick up and I looked for you at home and the rooftop and for a moment I-I thought you might try something funny and I-I...” She paused, rendered breathless and she gasped, she sniffled. Sung Gyu could feel his heart beating so hard, wild and relentless. He wanted nothing more but to hold her in his arms right now. Yet Sung Gyu knew better. He shouldn’t, for Hyerim deserved better.
She seemed to calm down for a second, gazing at him, her eyes glistening. “Sung Gyu I thought I lost you...and I was so, so scared…and I-,”

“Hyerim why?” He found himself asking her.  A part of him didn’t want to hear the truth, a part of him, deep down, already knew. The signs have been obvious enough, all this time flickering and floating around him. It wasn’t that he failed to see, he just chose not to see, not to acknowledge, for the truth hurt him more.

“Why?” She reiterated, sounding as if she was hearing it for the first time. “I don’t know, I don’t know a better way to put it, I don’t know a better way to explain, I was just scared, so scared that I would lose you, Sung Gyu, I was so scared they would take you away from me and….” A heavy sigh, then she took another step towards him. They were closer now; much, much closer. He watched her, rendered speechless, heart pounding, as she continued. “I can’t...I can’t let them take you away from me, I won’t. I would never, ever let them take you away from me”

“But why, Hyerim?” He pushed on. Sung Gyu wasn’t sure what he was expecting to hear from her. In fact, it shouldn’t even be what she should ask from her. He should ask about what happened to her at the station, what happened after he’d left her and taken off that morning, he should ask her if she’d ever forgive him for everything he’d said and done, but instead, there he was, pushing her with just one question, on and on. 

She was quiet for the longest while as a contemplative quietness passed. He just stood there, just a few feet away from her, waiting for her to respond. Maybe he wanted his worries cleared, his suspicions clarified so he could tell her no, she shouldn’t, she could not, because-,

“Maybe because I love you,” Hyerim replied. Sung Gyu’s heart shattered, his world crumbled and dissolved.

“Maybe because I love you, Sung Gyu…” She reiterated then, with much resolve, and as he watched her, frozen in the moment, lost and in complete disbelief, Hyerim crossed the distance between them in small, hurried steps until they were so close, close enough for him to see the stars in her eyes.
“I love you” She said, yet again.

And everything that happened after, happened so fast. Hyerim took his face in both her hands. Her palms were warm against his skin, a little damp with tears, perhaps, but her touch so gentle as she pulled him towards her, raised herself upon the tips of her toes and kissed him. She kissed him wherever she could reach; small, moist butterfly kisses laid upon him. On his forehead, on his  cheeks, on the lids of his eyes, the tip of his nose, his left jaw, the apples of his cheeks, his temples, his chin. Then finally, finally as he held his breath, as his heart stopped beating for a while, Hyerim moved in and kissed him long upon his lips.

As she kissed him, Sung Gyu realised, something unknown within his heart came undone. It was warm, alien and surreal, running through every vein, knocking on his senses, flowing through him, a thick, endless ribbon of fear, longing and desperation.  Perhaps he too had known this all along, how he’d seen her, how he’d felt about her, how he’d loved her, yet never acknowledged his heart’s desires lest it broke him apart. Sung Gyu loved her, and it became true, solid and real as the gentle warmth of her in his arms. Sung Gyu was afraid still, for he also still believed she deserved so much better. A beautiful, exquisite woman as herself, what did he have to offer to her than his own battered, broken old heart? He couldn’t respond to her, thus, as she pushed and pleaded, as her arms wrapped around his neck, lips tugged at his own and pulled him further into her arms. His hands rested unsurely on her waist, holding her in place, his eyes closed, a tight knot forming in his throat, unable to think any further. From a distance, to where they’d sat and watched the other night, the two of them would have appeared a couple deeply and unconditionally in love, wrapped upon each other in a passionate kiss in the backdrop of the tall skyscrapers, the vast city, in an empty playground where the swings moved on their own. They would appear beautiful, magical, breathtaking even. But the despairing truth was, Sung Gyu couldn’t hold her, he couldn’t kiss her back no matter how desperately she tried. He couldn’t love her like he wanted to, not when the whole world stood against him, when he’d become a subject of hatred over night. Sung Gyu couldn’t just simply accept her love. 

“Sung Gyu..?” She called him in the end, giving up trying. Her voice was breaking, her heart too and he could almost hear it shatter along with his own. When he shook his head, Hyerim tried to take his face in her hands yet again. Yet, albeit gently, he pried her off and took a step away.

“Hyerim…” He heaved a deep breath. “You and I...we need to talk”