"Not really."

"A man was murdered two nights ago. We found your DNA at the crime scene."

"That's nice."

"I will be asking you a series of questions. Answer them seriously and truthfully."

"Sure."

"Is your name Xinling Ikeda?"

"Yes."

"Are you a student attending Mugen High School?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen this man before?" The inspector drags a photograph across the steel cold table with a brown callous finger. He pushes it into the glaring spotlight. Xinling looks at the picture once with her still pond eyes.

"No, I haven't."

The inspector glances at his partner who is sitting in front of an electrical device attached to a long needle-like arm. The man peers over his oval shaped spectacles and nods his head, implying that the girl isn't lying.

"Where were you at midnight two days ago?"

"I don't really keep track of time."

"Were you in Ninpo Park after dark?"

"Probably."

"Yes or no."

"Yes."

"What were you doing there so late?"

"Taking a stroll."

"In the middle of the night? Do you know how dangerous it is for a young girl to wander into secluded areas?"

"I don't mind."

"You were carrying a pair of scissors. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"What were you doing with the scissors?"

"It was laying on the ground so I picked it up."

"Did you stab a man with it?"

"Yes. He attacked me so I stabbed him in self-defense."

"The laboratory reports show he was stabbed over 20 times. That is not self-defense."

"I only stabbed him once in the leg."

"And you never saw his face..."

"Everyone is faceless in the dark... just like you are now, inspector. A faceless man."

The inspector stands up and motions to his partner. He scoops up the files with one sweep of the hand and retreats.

"Aren't you going to ask about what he did to me, inspector? Or... are you too soft hearted?"

The inspector stiffens. He didn't need further confirmation. The dead man obviously initiated with the girl before his untimely demise. He stares at her sitting in the spotlight. For a girl who'd been , she is bold and unusually calm.

"Why didn't you stab him before that?"

She closed her eyes. Her thin lips crack a smile. "I didn't feel the need to get away... just yet."

• • • • • • •

"Everything she says seems to check out. The wound in his leg is much more shallow than the multiple stabs in his chest. The angle deviation shows the forces differ by a wide margin. The perpetrator may in fact be another person."

"She could have returned to exact revenge in a frenzy."

"For now, all the evidence is in her favor."

"Get a background check on her direct family members. They're on bad terms?"

"She's been living with a school friend."

"Have the friend checked out as well."

"You know they all have solid alibis."

"Even so..."

• • • • • • •

Jaejoong stepped out of the elevator and headed down the corridor towards his flat. He was greeted by an all too familiar scene sprawled in front of his door. This time, she had her head wedged between her knees. With her skirt rumpled, thighs bloody, hair like a bird's nest, she crouched there like a wounded creature waiting to die.

His body casted a strong shadow over her but she simply ignored it. "Hey..." He tapped the cool plastic bag against the side of her neck. "Did you forget the entry code again?" Jaejoong bent down and placed the bag of icy water bottles down on the ground. He inspected her from head to toe in the bemusing feeble light. He reached a firm hand out to her. His cold fingers rubbed the blood stains on her white thighs. With his other hand, he lifted up her skirt shamelessly. The mangle of stretched lace and pubic hair confirmed his suspicion. Luckily, the blood wasn't hers.

"Want to talk about it?" His voice softened as he dropped the end of her skirt and patted her head.

"No, not really." Her words were barely audible... partly because she was talking to the floor.

"You can tell me anything. I'm a very good listener."

"That's nice."

Jaejoong grabbed the plastic bag and rose to his feet. He punched in the entry code: 3-0-6 and unlocked the door. With a well measured swing, he chucked the bag in and it landed on the long sofa with a crunch and a crackle. Jaejoong turned back to look down at her, the abject . "Want me to carry you inside? At least let me-"

"Yes." She held up her arms to him. "I... I don't know why but I can't feel my legs."

• • • • • • •

Unsettling dreams, recurring nightmares, running on and on like a wretched gag. Though they differed night to night, the main theme was the same. She would always be a captive no matter how much time passes. There was no escaping the past deeply embedded in her mind. Whether she was being cornered by all the men she had been with until now... whether she was caught running in a rotting house haunted by her mother... whether she was sinking in the carpet of quicksand while her father sat comfortably on the sofa, watching the nightly news... escape was not an option. It never was.

Try to get away... try to get away.