Veil of Midnight

The rain fell heavy over Seoul, washing the streets in sorrow. Police lights flickered against the wet pavement, their glow painting the night in red and blue.

Detective Han Jae‑min stepped under the tape, his shoes splashing into puddles that mirrored the storm above. A body lay covered, silent testimony to the fragility of life. The rain drummed against the city like a funeral march.

Across the scene, Seo Hye‑jin arrived, trench coat pulled tight, her hair damp from the downpour. To the officers, she was another detective called in to assist. To Jae‑min, she was the woman he loved — the one he dreamed of marrying. The ring in his pocket pressed against him like a secret promise, waiting for a night less drenched in grief.

“Another loss,” Jae‑min murmured, his voice low, almost swallowed by the rain.

Hye‑jin’s eyes lingered on the covered body, her expression unreadable. She said nothing, only watched as Jae‑min crouched near the wall, studying faint markings carved into the bricks.

“Looks like a warning,” he muttered, though he couldn’t yet see the hand behind it.

The storm grew heavier, drowning the city in silence. Jae‑min looked at Hye‑jin, unaware of the secrets she carried. He thought only of love, of the proposal rehearsed in his mind. She thought of the night’s weight, of truths that would one day shatter him.

For now, it was only rain, only loss, only mystery.