Junyoung was tired. It was so noisy, and his ears were still ringing from the gunshot. Suddenly, the living room was bursting with activity. Paramedics and police officers appeared from nowhere, moving around him like ants. They were talking to him. Asking him questions. Someone removed the gag fromhis mouth, and another person covered him up. Soft, gentle hands picked him up from the floor and laid him gently on a stretcher.
As he was being carried out, Junyoung thought he heard the sound of water dripping in the bathroom.
Junyoung woke up in the hospital and found his mother sitting anxiously by his side. When she saw his eyes open, she began to fuss over him, her hands pressing against his cheeks.
“Oh, Junyoung! My sweet son.”
Annoyed, he sat up, pushing her away. “How long have I been here?”
“A day,” she said. “How are you feeling? Look.” She picked up the newspaper that was folded up on the chair next to her and held it out to him. The front page featured an image of him in his hospital bed, his eyes closed.
“What?” He laughed disbelievingly and reached out to grab it. “That’s crazy!”
His mother smiled faintly. “They’re calling you a hero,” she said quietly. “They’re saying the president might award you with a medal. And …” She pointed to his bedside table. Junyoung sat up, surprised. It was overflowing with gifts. Boxes of juicy grapes, bags of cherries, sliced watermelon. There was even acollection of cards and a flower bouquet. “That’s from your coworkers,” she said.
Junyoung picked up the card closest to him and read the lines scrawled inside.
Dear Junyoung, it read.We were so sorry to hear about the traumatic experience you endured and are so thankful that you are okay. Please take all the time you need. Your job will be waiting for you whenever you’re ready to come back. You are our hero. We’re all rooting for your full recovery here at the office.
Junyoung grinned.
Once the news got out that he was awake, reporters swarmed his hospital room. The crowd in the hallway outside of his room grew so large that the hospital security team was notified and asked to stand guard. Journalists were allowed in one by one to talk to Junyoung as his mother sat and watched from the sidelines.
“She was sick in the head,” Junyoung said to one reporter. “Did you hear? She had Jang Hyukjoon’s penis in her refrigerator. I saw it.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, and the man leaned in with wide eyes. “She told me she was going to cook it up into a stew and eat it. She said she was going to chop mine off and eat it, too.”
Before he left, the man shook Junyoung’s hand warmly and said with sincerity, “You’re a hero to us all. Truly. Thank you. Chopping off dicks and eating them?” With an expression of disgust, he shook his head. “Only a woman could come up with something that twisted.”
The door shut behind him, and Junyoung’s mother cleared her throat. “That’s not what you said to the other one,” she said.
“Shut up,” Junyoung snapped. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. I’m a national hero.”
+
A few hours before he was to be discharged, Officers Lim and Han came to see Junyoung at the hospital. His mother had left to get groceries, and he was alone in the room.
“It’s good to see you,” Officer Lim said.
“Likewise,” Junyoung responded, reaching out to shake their hands.
“Crazy, isn’t it?” Officer Han sighed. “I keep hearing her laughter.” He shivered, and Junyoung nodded.
“Yeah. Me too.”
“She was … unhinged. It’s sad, but we had to do it. There was no other choice. Women like that, there’s no hope for them, you know.”
“That’s true.”
“We did her a favor, putting her out of her misery.”
Junyoung nodded, and they fell into an uncomfortable silence. Officer Lim cleared his throat. “Anyway, we wanted to stop by and check in on you. We also wanted to bring this back.” He handed Junyoung his cellphone. Amid the chaos, Junyoung hadn’t even noticed that it was missing. He blushed, remembering the videos of Dahye he had saved.
“Thanks,” he stammered. “By any chance, you didn’t go through—”
“We did,” Officer Han interrupted him. “Sorry, we had to. Protocol.”
“Oh.” Junyoung stared at his hands for a moment before looking up at them. “Are you going to arrest me?”
The officers looked at each other and laughed. “What? What for?”