Luhan was only 7 years old when he was left all alone.

One bright Friday afternoon, Luhan bid his friend and family goodbye before splitting up and continuing his short walk home alone. Luhan had been praised by his teacher today for being able to recite a new learned poem perfectly, and he couldn’t wait to tell his parents.

It was still a five-minute walk away from his house when he heard the sirens blaring. A curious child Luhan was, he walked closer to investigate.

He wished he never did.

Clad in white, two men from the paramedic brought out a bloody body from a crushed car afar. The horrific scene struck Luhan like a bucket of ice water was poured on him. The body belonged to a man who Luhan loves and admires so dearly; blood flown from the injured man’s forehead, to his neck and trailing all the way to his hands.

Luhan lunged himself forward, but someone got a hold of him before he could reach the body.

“Kid, you can’t be here.” Luhan ignored him.

“Daddy!” tears streamed down his face as he tried to struggle free of the policeman’s grasp. “Mommy!” Luhan screamed for his parents, kicking his feet frantically in mid-air and throwing every curse he knew at that age toward the policeman holding him still. But Luhan’s strength was no match for an adult, not to mention a policeman who had been through rough trainings.

“A police had been killed and his wife severely injured in a car crash.” A reporter’s voice registered in the background. Her monotone stood out from the loud orders of the policemen and cries of the ambulance, almost as if mocking Luhan’s situation.

“Another car accident huh?” a pedestrian asked.

“Probably,” a policeman answered, “there’s not much evidence.”

You’re wrong! How can a plain car crash cause so much damage?

Helpless, Luhan watched as the two men in white put his mother on an emergency cart, her bloody hand dangling lifelessly at one side. No, I don’t want to be left alone again.

Panicking, Luhan kicked his feet at the policeman behind him. He heard the man groaned and felt the grip on him loosened. Luhan took the opportunity and wiggled free, landing on solid ground he immediately sprinted toward his parents.

Luhan only had enough time to register the bloody scene before…

“Whoa boy, where do you think you’re going?” another policeman stopped him. Luhan felt two strong arms lift him from behind and pull him away from the accident.

But the blood, the broken glass, and the car that had been flipped upside down were forever imprinted in Luhan’s mind. The crash made the car barely recognizable; still Luhan knew, it was the same car that his parents would bring him for a ride at night when he couldn’t fall asleep, it was the car the family does their weekly shopping with, it was the car his dad would pick him up with afterschool…

What stood out the most to Luhan was the message written in blood, darkened due to the dryness. Outside the broken window on the driver’s side, in what Luhan recognized as his dad's handwriting, even though a bit shaky, was three capitalized letters.

JTR.

♔♜♔♜♔♜♔♜♔

“Another man’s body had been discovered at around 5:30 a.m. this morning, in one of the alleys of downtown Seoul. Once again, the body was left dismantled with the chest cut opened and some internal organs missing. The police refused to give away any other information and will continue the investigation…”

Three young men were crowded around a small Macbook, all with varying degrees of fascination on their faces. Sehun, the boy closest to the computer, seemed to be deep in thought, eyes focused unmoving on the screen. The tallest of the three, a tanned skin boy named Jongin, had an arm rested on another boy, Kyungsoo, whose eyebrows rose further and further up his hairline as the news reporter yammered on.

Finally, the black hair boy interrupted the reporter’s voice by hitting the space button, stopping the video from playing any further.

“This case is way out of our league,” Kyungsoo announced to his other friends, purposely stretching a few words while he’s at it. “Way too dangerous.”

Jongin merely scoffed, closing the lid of his Macbook while still having his right arm around Kyungsoo, he muttered, “whatever.”

“Kyungsoo hyung is right,” said Sehun, who sat in front of the laptop. “Leave it to the pros, people at our levels shouldn’t mess with a case like this.” He comforted by reaching out a hand to pat Jongin on the shoulder, but found his position too low to do so; awkwardly, Sehun lowered his extended arm.

“You just want to see your dear LN taking the newspaper headline again, don’t you? Sehun?” The brown hair teen retorted.

“Stop teasing him Jongin!” Kyungsoo swatted Jongin’s hand lightly and looked sympathetically at the other boy, whose face just turned the color of an apple. “It’s not his fault that he’s madly in love with a famous detective.”

“I am not madly in love with him!” Either Sehun was furious or he was more embarrassed, because his face turned an even deeper shade of red.

“Ah, Kyungsoo you’ve only made it worse.” Jongin continued teasing.

“I am not in love with him!” Sehun practically screamed, causing other heads in the classroom to turn their way. “I just admire him okay? Admire!”

“Sureeee,” Jongin drawled. “You admire him that much to follow every news that mentioned his name.”

“And cut out every newspaper article about him, putting it in your drawer.” Kyungsoo c