"...the real Bang Yonghee is no longer a part of me; she's turned into a cold-blooded killer -- nothing will ever be able to go back to the way it was... ever."

The night was cold, damp, and dark with overhead clouds coming in from the west; rain poured down relentlessly, beating against trees and slamming against the windowpanes of homes and cars. The droplets of icy water pittered and pattered down the roads, flooding the main street with a streaming course of water. A dark blanket shielded the sky, covering the moon with a gray colour, restricting the illuminating glows of the shining object. Cool -- the perfect night for death.

"Who are you?"

The drunken man stumbled forward, craning his neck to catch a better glimpse of Yonghee, who stood before him with her head ducked and hood pulled over. Her pallid features were masked behind the large hood hanging over her head -- but even then, behind the fray of dark hair, the bum could detect a menacing pair of eyes gleaming from behind her tangled fringe. "I asked who the hell you were!" he slurred impatiently, yanking off her hood. "Who dares stand in front of a man and disturb his drinking time?!"
"Abeoji," Yonghee whispered coldly, "you sure are a bastard --"
"Abeoji!?" the elder echoed incredulously. "You're mistaken, pretty girl! I ain't got no kids; I ain't even married, y'hear?"
The customers within the tent bar glanced outside, watching the pair bicker back and forth amidst the rainfall. Yonghee gritted her teeth furiously, clenching her fists at her side when the man continued to blubber incoherently about her being mistaken; Yonghee rotated her jaw impatiently, using her slender fingers to jab him in the chest. "Be quiet!" she shouted. "All you do is talk!"
"What are you talking about?!"

Yonghee dragged the man away from the crowded tent bar, pulling him along with her, walking and dragging his heavy weight against the windy rain. "Where you takin' me?!" the man roared furiously, trying to free himself of her tight grip.
Yonghee looked back, whipping around to glare ferociously into his somber eyes. "I'm taking you to where you belong!" she cried deliriously.
"And where that be?" The man chuckled heartily, rubbing his stomach contently as he glanced at Yonghee with a sudden lustrous expression crawling over his greasy features. "You takin' me to bed? 'Cause I sure won't mind --"
"Not just a bed," Yonghee growled. "Your death bed."

"Dea -- what!? What did I ever do to ya, girl?" 

He rambled, blubbering constantly as he continued to persist against her tightening grasp. "Lemme go! Lemme go! Lemme GO! You crazy, cold-blooded ! Where ya takin' me?!"
"Shut up!"

She screeched loudly over his desperate cries, a flagrant evil gliding into her enraged irises. "Shut up! You have to be punished! I have to make sure you can't hurt me anymore, so just shut up and it'll be over before you know it!" Tears streamed down her frustrated, tear-stained cheeks, blending with the falling rain pelting against her face. "You can't hurt me any more, okay!?" she screeched furiously. "I have to make sure you can't hurt me any --"
"You're crazy!"

He pushed her away, sending her plummeting to the ground, onto her bottom. He glowered down at her angrily, his drunken eyes clouded behind a mist of anger and irritated confusion. "I don't know who your damn Abeoji is, but he sure has messed up with you -- I'm tellin' ya, girl, I ain't no Abeoji."

"Is there a problem here?"

Yonghee's head snapped up at the husky voice, a growl eminating from her hoarse throat.

"This girl here be crazy!" the drunk exclaimed bitterly. "Dragging me off and telling me she be takin' me to my deathbed! Crazy!"
The younger man bowed his head respectfully, ushering the slob away from himself and Yonghee, apologizing graciously on Yonghee's behalf. Then, he turned to her, staring pitifully down at her fallen form, and extending his slender hand to pull her up. "You've really done it this time," he muttered.
Yonghee yanked herself away from him and huffed, scoffing inaudibly to herself. She glared at the ground, crossing her arms. Before she could brush past him, Daehyun held her back, holding her shoulder firmly in his palm, keeping her locked in place. "You don't have to look at me when I speak, but hear me out."

She was silent.

"Yongguk-sunbaenim wants you to be rid of," Daehyun reported sympathetically. "He wants to bring you to justice, and sentence you fairly with the death penalty." At this, Yonghee was still silent, but fuming inwardly to herself; she gritted her teeth at the news of her brother willing to betray her, rotated her jaw frustratedly. "I'm against this," Daehyun whispered, gaining her sudden attention.
Yonghee's ears perked up and met his lowered gaze with a substantial amount of astonishment lacing her incredulous features. "What?" Her voice was breathless, raspy from the cold coming on her, and from the rain drowning out the soft volume of her tone. "You're what?"

"I need to somehow find a way to convince Yongguk something I've theorized," Daehyun mumbled gently. "I'm against your being penalized with the death sentence --"
"But --"
"If you could understand what a psychologist knows," Daehyun interjected calmly, "I would've told you a long time ago. But just trust me.. someone like you -- if what I've theorized is true -- doesn't deserve the death penalty. Second degree murder at most, but not death row. Bang Yonghee, I've been looking for you for days now, you know? Can you please spare me the energy and come to me willingly?"

Daehyun kept his gaze forward, averting his eyes away from hers; he narrowed his eyes gently, awaiting her anticipated response. 

Stubbornly, Yonghee remained silent, pursing her lips together with a nagging feeling irking at her. "Why should I?"
Daehyun smirked at this, beaming amusedly to himself. "Because I can help you --"
"Why would you even want to?"

She glared up at him, even though he didn't notice, for he was too busy looking ahead. From what she saw, Daehyun had dark shaggy hair, damped from the tremendous storm; clothes wrung tightly to his skin, heavy and soaking; his shoes were worn out, as well as everything else he had in tow. His eyes sparkled magnicificently with a sense of determination she's never seen before, with lips curved up into a flamboyant smirk. "Who are you to say you'd help me?"

"With my knowledge," Daehyun boasted cockily, "I could say I know more about you than you know about yourself."
Yonghee scoffed at this with an arising disblief.

"But that's not the point," he hinted. "For now, let's drop the titles. You and I, if you're willing to cooperate," he whispered, "we can be friends."

Huh?

Daehyun placed a set of towels onto his dining room table, eyeing Yonghee carefully as she glanced curiously at the objects laying upon the wooden surface. "Wash up," he told her patiently. "Once you're done, I'll be out here, so come out."
"What are you going to do to me?" Yonghee barked defensively.
Daehyun held his hands up submissively, calmly stating, "Absolutely nothing."

Doubt -- she was clearly dubious of his sudden acts of kindness. An impatient anger drew onto her features as she scowled menacingly at him, clearly disbelieving of his offer of friendsihp. 
"I'm not that type of guy, Miss Yonghee," he remarked. "I'm a cop, remember? But, as we're dropping the titles, don't forget we're friends -- I'm here to help you."

His eyes twinkled victoriously as he caught side of her inching closer to the towels on the table. She narrowed her eyes on him, her gaze wavering slightly. Her form faltered, as she was no longer stiff or tense. At this, Daehyun smiled amiably, desperately trying harder to break her cold and distant exterior. "Friend," he reminded her calmly in a hushed voice. "I'm a friend, okay?"

"Close your eyes."

Yonghee sat carefully into the chair in front of Daehyun, picking at the basketball shorts she wore loosely; his t-shirt wrapped around her body snugly, long and drooping past her thighs. Daehyun watched her meticulously, gazing at her patiently as she crouched into the chair, leaning back into the cushion. Her eyes fluttered shut, and Daehyun instantly sat up to look at her. "Take a few deep breaths."
She obliged hesitantly, clenching her fists. For a mere moment, she flinched as Daehyun took hold of her hands. She began to quiver under his warm touch, trembling as the nightmarish memories overwhelmed her mind. "It's just me," Daehyun whispered. "Remember? Your dad is dead," he told her.
"He's --"

"Don't talk," he muttered diffidently. He unclenched her fists, encasing her cold, soft hands into the massive contents of his own, wrapping his fingers securely aruond her palms. "It's just me.. now do me a favor, Yonghee," he whispered. "Think back to the nights your Abeoji --"
"Andwae --"
"Please," he interjected in a pressed tone. "I'm right here -- you have to do this. I'm right here, so you won't be hurt. If you see something you don't like, I want you to give my hands a tight squeeze, okay? ...Okay?"

She nodded, gritting her teeth impatiently.

"You're at home. Yongguk is probably at practice right now. Doing homework, your Abeoji steps into the room.. what is he doing? What is he saying?"

Yonghee felt her breath hitch in . "Please --"
"Please, Yonghee," Daehyun begged gently. "You have to help me do this."

"He's -- he's coming closer," she whispered, breath shaking as her voice wavered slightly. Her voice hitched into a long squeak as she writhed in her spot. 
"Yonghee --"
"He's touching me," she whispered, lips trembling fiercely as she spoke, "He's saying he loves me, but I know that's not it. Please help -- he's touching me every-everywhere... I don't like it -- make it stop! Please, he's.." She paused for a long moment, silence spreading across the tense atmosphere. Yonghee cringed, and soon, under her tightening grip, Daehyun felt his hands cramp as she clamped down onto his palms with her fingernails; she held tightly onto his hands, tears streaming from her closed eyes. She bobbed her head back and forth, shaking her head disapprovingly at the visions. "Help me!" she cried, "he's inside -- it hurts -- please stop it."

A sob escaped from , and Daehyun forced himself free of her grip, taking both her shoulders into his hands and shook her roughly out of her trance. It took a long while; she was too deep inside her own mind, and for that, Daehyun was apologetic, but when she was finally awakened and lucid, Daehyun couldn't recollect the blur of images after that. Yonghee crashed into his chest, plummeting into his arms eagerly. Her frail, quivering arms shook under her trepidation, wrapping tightly around his waist as they tumbled to the ground. Daehyun lay there, astounded and bemused by her sudden actions, gaping down at her teary form. 

Yonghee buried her face into the crook of his neck, wailing consciously and furiously into the fabric of his moistening shirt. Her tongue produced incoherent blubbers and pleas, rambling furiously amidst her watery breakdown. "Yonghee --"
"Please don't let her hurt anymore people." She was reacting violently, her words hoarse and croaking from the tension tightening around her chest as she heaved for air. "She's a monster -- please, you have to save me; please... Prosecutor-shii, please!"

Words jumbled past Daehyun's mind, crawling and pacing languidly through the process of comprehension. Slowly, he understood her; and finally, he returned her shaky embrace, sitting up so that she sat in front of him, resting in between his legs. He held her gently, awkwardly patting her back as she continued to cry into his chest. "Yonghee.. who's a monster?" he catechized breathlessly.

"..Her.. that girl.. me -- I don't know -- it's me, but it's not, and it's --"
He shushed her calmly, patting her back amiably, letting her pour herself into him. "That's fine.. has this... has this happened more than once? Where you were finally able to break free from.. her.. her grasp?"
Yonghee shook under his arms, nodding. "It only lasts a little bit... and then she.. she..."

Suddenly, Daehyun was pushed back and Yonghee ripped herself free from his arms. She glowered down at him, all forms of disparity free from her features; there was a flagrant rage, but no signs of solemnity or woe were present. She was fuming, huffing silently and heaving deeply to herself, glowering down at the seated Daehyun before her. She rosed to her feet, clenching her jaw and tightening her fists until they were a snow white. "What have you done to me?" she growled bitterly. "What did you do?!"

Daehyun scoffed, nodding slowly to himself as the mystery unraveled before him. "I think.. I've figured you out, Bang Yonghee," he muttered.

"You don't mess with me again," she sneered. "Or next time, I seriously will kill you --"
"You were vulnerable, weren't you?"
"And you took advantage of it?" Yonghee scowled. "You're just as sick as every other man out there."

With that, she took off, disappearing through Daehyun's front doors and into the dark, mysterious folds of the night.

Daehyun slammed a skinny document onto Yongguk's desk, earning himself a fiery glare. "What is this?" the elder demanded impatiently. Yongguk released a puff of smoke, retracting his cigarette away from his lips.
"A file," Daehyun answered curtly.
"What kind?" Yongguk drawled impatiently.

"It's a report on Yonghee."

Yongguk looked suddenly interested. His eyes grew dark at the name, and his girp on his cigarette loosened. He sat up with a trepidating look in his eye, gleaming from behind the menace and obsure ferocity hiding in his pupils. "What about her?" he breathed.
Daehyun nodded briskly to the file that lay limply across Yongguk's neat desk. "It's a full diagnosis report of her split personality disorder."
"You --"
"My theory is right." Daehyun frowned bitterly at the ephemeral bits of Yonghee's obsure debut. "And sadly, I was also right about her being ... trapped beneath her alter ego.."
"What are you saying then?" Yongguk whispered frantically.

"It might be too late to recover the true Yonghee."