“Slow down!” Donghae called.

Haruki didn’t hear him as she barreled down the hall, racing towards Yesung’s office. Halfway there, she bumped into someone and he yelped as the papers he’d been holding scattered everywhere. Lee Taemin, the recently employed young rookie, looked at her with puppy eyes threatening to start watering.

She sighed and glanced at Yesung’s door, catching a glimpse of his head bent over his desk. She had a moment. “I’m so sorry, Taemin,” she mumbled, crouching down and helping him pick up the files. “I was in a hurry.” His face brightened instantly.

“That’s okay, noona,” he chirped, and she smiled at the title. Their department generally ignored all formalities, but the rookie insisted on calling Haruki “noona.” Since she found it sweet, she didn’t bother to correct him. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. It’s my fault.”

“Don’t blame yourself for everything, kid,” she said. His smile was infectious and she felt her own mood lightening. She handed him her stack of papers and patted him fondly on the back, sending him on his way.

Donghae finally caught up to her and smirked. “Looks like you have a soft spot for the kid, Morita.”

“Who doesn’t?” Haruki retorted. At that moment, she noticed Yesung walking out of his office, nose buried in a file. “Yesung! Wait up!”

Yesung halted in his tracks and looked up to see her running towards him. He nodded. “Hello Haruki, Donghae. What’s going on?”

“I need your files on Choi Sulli’s case,” Haruki panted.

Yesung frowned and she knew she was treading on dangerous ground. None of them liked mentioning unsolved cases, especially not ones as gruesome as this. She her lips, choosing her next words carefully.

“We got a case just like yours,” Donghae explained. “It might be a serial-ow!”

Haruki removed her heel from his foot, but it was too late. A cloud passed over Yesung’s face and she sighed inwardly, making a mental note to have another discussion about tact with Donghae later. Though she knew her partner hadn’t meant to be critical, telling Yesung that the murderer who had escaped him was acting again was like a slap to the face, letting him know he had failed.

Yesung shook his head. “Uh, yeah. The files. Come on in.” He jerked his head towards his office and headed inside, shifting through the piles of paper on his desk.

Donghae started to follow, but Haruki yanked him back. “You stay outside,” she snapped. She entered Yesung’s office and closed the door behind them. “Are you alright?” she asked the other detective softly.

Yesung rolled his shoulders back and sighed. “It’s just frustrating, Haruki. I spent months on that case and came up with nothing. I had to deal with the girl’s family and friends every single day, eagerly asking if I’d found anything and every single day, I had to tell them no.” He drew the thin file out of his cabinet and tossed it to her. “You won’t find much in there.”

“Yesung…”

“Just go. I hope you have better luck than I did.” There was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice.

Haruki smiled faintly at him before turning to leave. As sorry as she felt for him, she knew he didn’t want her pity and there was nothing she could say to make him feel better.

Meanwhile, Donghae was pacing impatiently back and forth in front of the door. “What are you trying to do, tread a hole in the carpet?” a voice teased and he turned to see his best friend, Lee Hyukjae, nicknamed “Eunhyuk” by the department.

Donghae smiled. “I’m waiting for my partner.”

“You’re working with Yesung on a case?” asked Eunhyuk.

“No, I’m working with Haruki. She went in to get something and wouldn’t let me follow.” He rubbed his forehead and sighed. “Eunhyuk, do you think she hates me?”

Eunhyuk laughed. “If you’d turn off the immaturity, I think everyone would stop hating you. You weren’t like this before.” He raised his eyebrows, hinting for an explanation, but Donghae didn’t take the bait.

“Who are you calling immature, little brat?” Donghae grinned, even though the latter was six months older than him.

“I’m serious!” Eunhyuk protested.

“So is my partner,” Donghae muttered.

“What about your partner?” asked Haruki as she closed the door to Yesung’s office and tossed the folder to Donghae, which he barely caught. “We should check out IU’s apartment. You have the address, right?”

“Yeah,” Donghae replied. When she was out of earshot, he turned to his friend. “See what I mean?” he hissed.

Eunhyuk was struggling not to laugh. “Good luck,” he chuckled.

“Donghae!” Haruki called impatiently, crossing her arms.

"I’m coming!” Donghae yelped. “Honestly, that girl…”

The key was under the doormat. “Looks like she wasn’t very concerned about her safety,” Haruki murmured as Donghae unlocked the door and stuck his head inside.

There were no signs of a struggle. A thin layer of dust covered every surface and the dishes in the sink remained unwashed. “No one’s been here in days,” Donghae commented.

“Yeah.” Haruki moved towards a room that had been left slightly open and peeked inside.

It was IU’s bedroom. Her red and yellow bedspread was covered by a mound of clothes and the matching curtains were still raised. She had apparently left home sometime before dinner, intending to lower them when she returned.

“I don’t think we’ll find any clues here, Haruki,” Donghae said, glancing around at the messy room.

“Wait, Donghae. Look.” Haruki picked up a framed photograph from the nightstand and showed it to him.

“Isn’t that the same picture we found in her dressing room?”

“Yeah, and her friend said she’d keep something like this in her house.”

“And that she wouldn’t lock any of the drawers of her dresser…”

Both detectives looked at each other and frowned. “You don’t think someone planted this in her dressing room, do you?” Haruki asked.

Donghae took the picture from her and placed it back on the nightstand, shaking his head. “Come on. Where would they have gotten it from?”

Haruki thought about that for a moment. “What about Sulli? Couldn’t he have taken it from her?”

Donghae immediately turned and headed back towards the car. “Let’s go,” he said brusquely.

“Wait, where?” Haruki called after her.

“University of Performing Arts,” he replied. “Sulli’s school.” He cast a cheeky grin back at her. “What, didn’t you read the files yet?”

That little… Haruki growled under her breath and followed him out to the car.

“Whose there?” came the answer through the firmly locked door when Haruki knocked on it.

"Luna Park?” asked Haruki. “My name is Detective Morita and my partner is Detective Lee. We’re investigating the murder of your roommate.”

“No,” Luna snapped. “Go away. I’m done answering questions about her.”

“Miss Park, we just want to ask you a few questions,” Donghae told her.

“I thought the case was closed,” Luna retorted. “At least that’s the sense I got from the detective when I called him to ask if he’d found anything and he never had good answers. No, scratch that. He never had any answers at all.”

Haruki remembered Yesung saying the same thing and smiled sympathetically. “Miss Park, I know that you’re hurt by your friend’s loss, but please understand that we are trying our best.”

“A murder is never closed until the killer is caught,” Donghae added.

There was a long silence and Haruki was beginning to think that Luna had gone away when she spoke up again. “Why are you coming to me now?”

“Another girl was killed in a similar fashion,” Haruki replied. “We think the same person might be behind both murders.”

The deadbolt slid back and the door opened, revealing a young woman with short dyed blond hair. “Come in,” she said rather harshly.

Half of the room had been picked clean and the bed stripped clean. “She lived on that side,” Luna explained. “Her parents already took all her things home.”

“Miss Park, if you don’t mind, can we ask you a few questions about Sulli?” Donghae said gently, pulling his notebook out of his pocket. “Who were her friends?”

As Luna answered, Haruki went over to Sulli’s side of the room. She opened each desk drawer and went through the dresser.

“What are you doing?” Luna snapped. “I said all her things were taken home.”

“Not everything,” Haruki replied. She opened the bottom drawer of the dresser and gestured for the younger girl to come over.

Inside was an assortment of photographs, each one with a face torn out. The blonde looked bewildered. “I know her parents took everything out of this drawer. I saw them.”

“Do these all belong to Sulli?” Haruki asked.

“I think they’re from her photo album,” Luna replied. “But she’d never rip up a picture. She loved collecting photos of her friends and family.”

The detective reached inside and pulled out one. “Can you identify the girls in this picture for me?”

Luna nodded, looking shaky. “That’s Sulli, and Amber. This one’s Krystal.” She swallowed hard, hands trembling.

“And the one who is missing from the picture?” Haruki asked, already knowing the answer.

Luna her lips. Her voice came out as a croak as she replied, “It’s me.”

There was no way they could leave Luna in her dorm, not after that revelation. Donghae wasn’t fully convinced, but Haruki was certain that the photographs were a message from the killer, marking Luna as his next victim. When Luna had almost inaudibly asked if she could come with them, Haruki had agreed instantly.

The girl in question had been extremely quiet during the ride to the police station. As Donghae drove, Haruki had asked her a few questions about Sulli and IU and she had answered them in short sentences. She didn’t know IU personally, but she knew Sulli had gone to visit her on occasion. She recognized the picture as one of Sulli’s from the hearts drawn on the picture frame.

Then she lapsed into silence and ignored all further attempts at conversation.

“What are we going to do with her?” Donghae whispered.

“I don’t know,” Haruki admitted. “But she’ll be safer at the police station.”

“You don’t even know if she’s really a target,” Donghae protested, “or when the killer would strike if she is a target. Or if-”

“Just shut up and drive,” hissed Haruki, casting a glance into the back seat. Luckily, Luna hadn’t seemed to notice the discussion at all. She continued staring blankly out the window, her head leaning back against the seat of the car.

The other members of their division cast them strange looks but didn’t comment as the blond girl dumbly followed them into Haruki’s office and sat down at the desk at the detective’s suggestion. “I’ll get some coffee,” Donghae said, sprinting off and leaving Haruki alone with Luna.

Comforting people younger than her wasn’t Haruki’s specialty, but she seated herself in the chair beside Luna and gently touched the younger girl’s arm. Luna flinched away.

“Can you tell me a little bit about yourself, Miss Park?” Haruki asked. “What were you studying in college?”

“Singing.” At least one word answers were an improvement over the silence.

“Was Sulli also a singer?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause as Haruki struggled to think about what to ask next. Luckily, she was spared from this by the entrance of Donghae and Leeteuk.

“I didn’t know how you like your coffee, so I brought a bunch of packs of sugar and cream,” Donghae explained, placing the cup on the desk with a stirring straw. He smiled at her. “You can make it however you want.”

The smallest of smiles formed on Luna’s lips. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Donghae already explained everything to me,” Leeteuk said, rubbing his temples. “Haruki, can I speak to you outside?” The officer nodded and followed him outside the office. He closed the door behind them and spoke to her in a low voice. “Look, I understand your concern, but there really isn’t much we can do in this situation.”

“But what if she’s really being targeted?” Haruki protested. “I mean, it can’t be a coincidence.”

“I know. But we don’t know if there really is a serial killer at large and if there is, we don’t know when the killer might strike,” Leeteuk replied. “It could be weeks or months from now. What are we supposed to do? Keep her here?”

Haruki sighed. “But it doesn’t feel right leaving her without some sort of protection…”

Leeteuk looked uncomfortable and she knew he agreed with her, at least to some extent. “We’ll inform her school security. Have them take care of her. It’s the most we can do.”

Haruki had to concede and she remained quiet as she and Donghae drove Luna back to school and dropped her off at her dorm. Right before the younger girl went inside, though, Haruki quietly slipped her a small box.

“What’s this?” Luna asked.

Haruki looked around to make sure her partner was too far away to hear before replying. “Something to defend yourself. I’m giving it to you in hopes that you never need it. Here’s our cellphone numbers.” She handed Luna a slip of paper. “You can call me and Donghae if you ever feel unsafe.” With a nod, she turned and walked away.

Luna frowned and pried the box open. A grin, the first one since Sulli’s death, crossed her face when she saw the contents.

It was a Taser.

Haruki was quietly prodding at her pasta when the squeak of the chair next to her scraping on the tiled floor made her look up and cringe. “Well, that’s one way to get your attention,” laughed the man as he seated himself beside her.

A faint smile crossed her face. “Shindong. What are you doing here?”

Shin Dong-hee, better known as “Shindong,” was the Medical Examiner of the Forensics Division. His knowledge of corpses was beyond that of anyone else in the division. Haruki still wasn’t sure whether that was a gift or not.

“I was looking for you,” he replied, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “Where’s your partner?”

“Donghae went out for lunch,” Haruki replied.

“Date?” Shindong raised his eyebrow.

“Something like that.” She poked at her pasta again. “What’s the matter?”

“There’s something that’s been bothering me about that homicide you got this morning,” he replied. Haruki winced. This was the discussion she had been dreading; Shindong never seemed to realize when he was discussing the gory details of a murder at an inappropriate time.

"Now’s not the-”

“Do you know what a lobotomy is, Haruki?” he asked.

She frowned, taken aback by the question. “Well, yeah. I learned about them in my Intro to Psych class. You drill a hole in the head and take out a chunk of the brain, right?”

“Almost.” Shindong took another bite and began talking with his mouth full. “Lobotomies target the front of the brain, specifically the prefrontal cortex. The first lobotomies required, as you said, drilling a hole in the skull and severing the connections around the prefrontal cortex.”

She looked at him expectantly as he paused for dramatic effect. “Then, in the 1940s, a psychiatrist named Walter Freeman, who believed that lobotomies could be the cure-all for mental disorders, came up with an easier way of performing them. He wanted a method that would be available for patients in state mental hospitals that couldn’t afford surgeons or operating rooms. He did hundreds of lobotomies on people of all ages. It was such a quick procedure that people thought they had a panacea for mental illness.”

“I don’t see what this has to do with-” Haruki began.

“It’s the way he did the surgery,” Shindong replied. “He called it a transorbital lobotomy. It could be done without anesthesia and the patient could either be kept awake or rendered unconscious with electroconvulsive shock therapy. A thin surgical instrument was inserted under the upper eyelid and a mallet was used to hammer it through the skull. The instrument was drilled about five centimeters into the front of the brain and then essentially wiggled around, going further in each time and cutting through the white matter between the frontal lobe to the thalamus.”

Haruki slowly put down her fork. Her pasta had gone cold, anyways. “That’s enough.”

“Wait. I’m not done,” Shindong protested. He swallowed before waving the half-eaten sandwich at her and asking, “How much do you know about the anatomy of the brain?”

She squirmed uncomfortably, wanting nothing more than to escape back to her office. “I know a little bit…”

“What’s the function of the frontal lobe?”

“Thinking, basically,” Haruki replied. “Deciding how to act, how to behave…why are you asking me this?”

Shindong a bit of mayonnaise off his finger. “Because the reason the frontal lobe was targeted for lobotomies is for the reasons you said. A person who acted inappropriately in social situations or had a difficult personality might become more docile. It was used for mood disorders, schizophrenia-”

“Shindong, please, just get to the point,” snapped Haruki, her patience finally starting to wear out.

He didn’t even notice. “My point is that a lobotomy is meant to be a treatment, but it can go horribly wrong. It can lead to death or put a patient in a vegetative state. But death is never the actual goal.”

Haruki felt her hands go cold and a shiver ran down her spine. “So you’re saying…”

“I don’t think the murderer intended to kill those girls, Haruki,” Shindong said softly. “He intended to change their very essence, but he didn’t mean to kill them.” After a short pause, he pointed at her abandoned pasta. “Are you going to finish that?”

“All yours.” Haruki shoved it towards him and excused herself, briskly walking out of the cafeteria. She’d completely lost her appetite.