9.

Chapter 9

Sunoo didn’t move as Riki was escorted out of the room, his mind still tangled in the words they had exchanged.

"Because you listen."

It shouldn’t have mattered. He had interviewed dozens of patients before—some more volatile than Riki, some more calculated—but none of them had ever managed to burrow under his skin the way Riki did. None of them made him feel as if he were the one being studied.

Sunoo exhaled, closing his notebook with a sharp flick of his wrist. His fingers still tingled where they had pressed into the pages, and his body felt taut with something unspoken. Dr. Choi lingered near the door, watching him carefully.

“You need to be careful with him.”

Sunoo didn’t look up. “I know what I’m doing.”

Dr. Choi hummed, unconvinced. “Do you?”

At that, he did glance up, meeting her sharp gaze. “He’s just another patient.”

She sighed, stepping forward. “That’s exactly what he wants you to think.”

Sunoo frowned, irritation prickling at his skin. “And what do you think he is?”

Dr. Choi hesitated. Then, in a quiet voice, she said, “A predator.”

The word settled uneasily between them.

Sunoo scoffed, more out of discomfort than disagreement. “He’s a kid.”

Dr. Choi’s expression didn’t change. “A kid who knows exactly how to twist a knife.”

Sunoo clenched his jaw. He wasn’t blind to Riki’s manipulation tactics—he had seen them firsthand. But there was something else there, something just beneath the surface, and he couldn’t ignore it.

“Just be careful,” Dr. Choi added before leaving the room.

Sunoo sat in silence for a long moment before finally pushing himself to his feet. He didn’t need to be warned—he already knew the risks. But knowing them didn’t make them any easier to navigate.

And it didn’t explain why Riki made him feel like he was the one being unraveled.

Sunoo spent the rest of the afternoon buried in files, hoping to shake the lingering unease curling in his chest. Riki’s records were scattered, inconsistent—transfers between facilities with little explanation, notes from previous doctors that danced around specifics.

"Charming, but calculated."

"Shows no signs of remorse."

"Highly intelligent—dangerous if given too much freedom."

Sunoo frowned, flipping through the pages. The assessments felt clinical, detached. They painted a picture of someone manipulative, cold—but that wasn’t quite right. Riki was manipulative, but there was warmth beneath it, a kind of sharp-edged curiosity that didn’t fit with the image these reports tried to create.

Then, he found something new. A report from just before Riki’s transfer to Blackthorn.

"Patient shows signs of dissociation. When pressed on details of his past, he becomes uncharacteristically silent. Recommend further evaluation."

Sunoo read the sentence again. Silent? That didn’t sound like the Riki he knew.

Before he could dwell on it, there was a knock at his office door.

Dr. Choi again.

“You should go home.”

Sunoo blinked, glancing at the clock. It was nearly midnight.

“I’m fine,” he said, though his muscles ached from sitting too long.

Dr. Choi sighed, stepping inside. “Obsessing over him won’t get you anywhere.”

Sunoo stiffened. “I’m not—”

“You are.” She crossed her arms. “You’re letting him get to you.”

Sunoo hesitated, then shut the file. He wouldn’t admit it, but she wasn’t wrong.

“I’ll leave soon,” he relented.

Dr. Choi nodded but didn’t look convinced. She lingered for a second longer before finally turning to leave.

Sunoo exhaled once she was gone, rubbing a hand over his face. His thoughts were a mess, tangled between logic and something far more dangerous.

He needed to figure Riki out.

And that meant he needed to keep pushing.

The next day, Sunoo requested another session.

Riki arched an eyebrow as he was led into the room, cuffs clicking as he sat down.

“Miss me already?”

Sunoo ignored the way the words made his pulse stutter. “I have more questions.”

Riki smirked. “Of course you do.”

Sunoo studied him carefully. He looked the same—calm, collected—but there was something different in his eyes.

“Why were you silent during your last evaluation?”

For the first time since they met, Riki’s smirk faltered.

It was brief—just a flicker of something unreadable—but Sunoo caught it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Riki said smoothly.

Sunoo didn’t break eye contact. “Yes, you do.”

Silence stretched between them. Thick. Tense.

Then, Riki leaned forward, his expression unreadable.

“Maybe I just didn’t have anything to say.”

Sunoo’s grip tightened on his pen. “That’s a lie.”

Riki tilted his head, studying him. “And what if it’s not?”

Sunoo exhaled slowly. “Then why won’t you tell me what changed?”

Riki’s gaze darkened. “Maybe I don’t want you to know.”

Something in his voice sent a chill down Sunoo’s spine.

But he didn’t back down.

“Or maybe you do.”

Riki’s lips quirked, but it wasn’t his usual smirk. It was something else—something quieter, more dangerous.

“You’re getting too close, doc.”

Sunoo swallowed, pulse hammering. “Close to what?”

Riki leaned in just enough that Sunoo could see the flecks of gold in his irises.

“The truth.”

Sunoo barely had time to process before the door swung open.

Session over.

Riki was pulled away before Sunoo could say another word.

But the damage was already done.

Sunoo wasn’t just investigating Riki anymore.

He was chasing him.

And he had a feeling Riki knew it.

______________

Ayyyy I love longer chapters