why? // ateez au

the finding.

Seven Hours. 

It had taken us seven long hours to sift through every piece of evidence San had gathered, but we were no closer to finding the truth behind Yunho's death. Despite my adamancy to keep going, I believed we've exhausted all our efforts. But San... San was too determined to stop. 

As we sat there, surrounded by notes and documents, it became evident that our efforts had reached a dead end. I tried to reason with San, urging him to accept the futility of our search.

"San, we've done all we can," I said, my voice tinged with resignation. But he remained fixated on his task, not even bothering to meet my gaze. With furrowed brows, he continued shuffling through the papers until he stumbled upon a particular letter.

"Look, Wooyoung, look at this," he exclaimed, pointing at a passage in the letter. "Why does it mention me when it's addressed to you?" His face lit up with surprise, reminiscent of a child seeking validation for a correct answer. However, the weariness in his eyes and the disheveled state of his hair betrayed the toll this investigation had taken on him. Gradually, his smile faded as he noticed my lack of enthusiasm for the finding.

Placing my hand on his shoulder, I whispered, "I think it's time we put an end to this. It's gone too far." I tried to soothe him, stroking his arm gently. But to my surprise, he shrugged off my hand, his eyes visibly darkening. His grip tightened around the armrest of the couch, his knuckles turning white.

"You're the one who started all this, Wooyoung," he muttered, his voice laced with disgust as he turned to face me. "You dragged me into this mess, and now you want to abandon it?" The words stung, and tears welled up in my eyes. I raised my hand to wipe away the beads of sweat forming on my forehead.

"I know," I replied, my voice catching in my throat. I couldn't tear my gaze away from his face. "But it's tearing you apart. I can see it. This investigation is consuming you." His breathing slowed, and his eyes shifted to the table strewn with papers. "Don't torture yourself any longer, San." The emotions in his eyes began to fade, and he turned as pale as a ghost. I watched intently as he picked up a paper, his hands trembling.

"It's him," he barely whispered, holding up the page to his eyes. His voice quivered, and he repeated the words under his breath. When he handed me the paper, the realization struck me like a lightning bolt.

Him. He was the one who had taken Yunho away from us. My Yunho.

My breath quickened, and my mind raced to one conclusion.

"Call everyone to the warehouse. Tonight."