The Play "Mirror" (1)
A single shaft of light dropped from above and lit Jin Yu-han, and for a moment absolute silence held the house.
When people are suddenly confronted with something they never saw coming, thought freezes; reaction takes time.
"Hurry aboard, please. We're about to cast off. Show your tickets and step on."
Only then did the screams erupt from the seats.
"Wh-what?"
"Isn't that Jin Yu-han?"
"Come on, just someone who looks like him."
A few spectators twisted around, scanning the house. The whispers from the people beside them sounded just as certain.
"No, look properly—it is Jin Yu-han!"
"Why is Jin Yu-han suddenly here?"
"Holy crap! First time I've ever seen him in person!"
"What is this? Some kind of variety-show stunt?"
Im Seong-su's daughter Im Yu-jin and her friend were no different.
"Yu-jin! This has to be why your dad made you come!"
"…Y-yeah? But why would Jin Yu-han be performing in a place like this?"
The murmur rolled through the house like a squall and then gradually died. Jin Yu-han had been doing musicals until recently, so the idea of him doing a play was not completely unthinkable; and mid-performance was no place for endless chatter. Silence returned of its own accord.
As if nothing had happened, Jin Yu-han picked up his lines again.
"I'm in such a rush I couldn't buy a ticket—I just ran over. I absolutely have to get on. Double the fare, no, triple, cash, right now—can't you do something?"
He yanked a wad of bills from his wallet. Ha Jae-hun, watching, scratched the back of his head.
"Ah, I really can't. That's against the law."
"Please. I'm begging you."
Jin Yu-han waved the cash; Ha Jae-hun's gaze followed the hand.
"Ah, whatever. Get on, then go straight down to the lobby under the stairs."
Ha Jae-hun stuffed the bills into his back pocket. Head lowered, Jin Yu-han slipped past him into the darkness of the stage.
Tak—.
The highlight over Ha Jae-hun's head snuffed out. The whole stage went black, then the great central main light flared.
The set was a row of rooms divided by walls like public-toilet stalls; one passenger stood in each. Jin Yu-han walked forward into the light. Ha Jae-hun followed, peering into the cubicles, then approached him.
"Most of the rooms are full, but luckily we've got one left."
He led Jin Yu-han to the bed nearest the audience.
"It's only an eight-hour run, so use this room for now. And never breathe a word that you boarded without a ticket. Understood?"
"Yes. Understood. Got it."
Ha Jae-hun left. Jin Yu-han reached into empty air, mimed opening a door, and stepped into the space that held the bed. The audience, though there was neither wall nor door around that bed, instantly accepted that it was a room.
Someone's lying on the bed across from him. So that must be another room?
They glanced at the opposite bunk, then back at Jin Yu-han.
But Jin Yu-han, out of nowhere? What on earth is this show?
One spectator who had simply wanted to see a play while he was in Daehangno, and had walked in because this company alone had no queue, still felt dazed. Looking around, he saw every other mouth slightly open, every pair of eyes locked on Jin Yu-han's face.
At least I'm not the only one who walked in blind.
Jin Yu-han lay down. The light on him, and the main light washing the cabins behind him, both went out. A faint yellow glow fell on the bed opposite. The silhouette under the blanket stirred, rose, turned its back, and straightened its clothes. Then, exactly as Jin Yu-han had done, it mimed opening a door, crossed the stage, and walked left. The dim yellow light tracked the man's path just enough to prove a person was there.
He reached the far left edge of the stage—the same place where Kim Se-yeong had bantered at the top of the show—turned, and spoke.
"Ah, coming out on deck feels good."
A hard light slammed onto him. Kim Se-yeong stepped up beside him.
"Sir, please hold the railing outside. It's dangerous."
The man turned.
"The sunset over the sea is beautiful."
The moment the audience saw the face of the man on stage, every age and gender screamed at once.
"Aaaah! Wh-what?! Isn't that Ryu Yeon-woo?"
"Is it really Ryu Yeon-woo?"
"What the hell is going on? First Jin Yu-han, now Ryu Yeon-woo?"
Shocked faces stared at the stage. This was different from Jin Yu-han's entrance. Hit by Jin Yu-han and then immediately by Ryu Yeon-woo, the house could not stop buzzing; the noise only grew.
Third-year reporter Song Ju-a, who had finished dinner with her boyfriend and come to the little theater as planned, clapped a hand over her mouth.
What is this? Ryu Yeon-woo and Jin Yu-han just popping out on a tiny stage?
She remembered what the young man handing out flyers had said.
—Starting tomorrow you have to book online, but today is opening night so we're only selling tickets at the door!
So today is the first performance? Ryu Yeon-woo and Jin Yu-han, in secret, on the same stage, in a back-alley Daehangno house, with almost no one knowing?
Jin Yu-han—star since childhood, always at the top. And Ryu Yeon-woo—whose career was no longer a filmography but a list of achievements. And the two of them, together, in a shabby little theater tucked in a corner of Daehangno…
This was a scoop no matter what. Song Ju-a was not an entertainment reporter, but a scoop this size made department lines meaningless.
On stage, Yeon-woo heard the murmur swell instead of settle. He had expected some reaction, but the noise was larger than he had calculated; even Kim Se-yeong in front of him looked openly rattled.
I have to cut the flow here.
The audience had been yanked out of the play by his entrance; he had to pull them back in. Ironically, the only solution was his own presence.
Yeon-woo drew a breath. The line was meant to be soft, but he had no choice; he drove it out with hard, forged projection.
"The sunset!"
No microphone, no sound system—yet the wave of that steel-tempered voice rode the dome of the little theater, diffracted, and drove straight into every ear. The sudden thunder of projection startled the house into silence; the side conversations died.
Yeon-woo smiled gently and continued, softer now.
"Do you know why it's beautiful? Why a setting sun is more beautiful than a rising one."
The audience, momentarily crushed by the sheer presence of actor Ryu Yeon-woo, fell quiet again. Kim Se-yeong, standing beside him, fought not to be swallowed by that presence and answered the question.
"…I don't know. It's true a sunset is more beautiful than a sunrise, but…"
Yeon-woo murmured almost to himself.
"The regret of falling petals is lovelier than the freshness of new buds; the rapture of a sinking sun is lovelier than the awe of one that rises—because we know our own finitude."
"Where does that come from?"
Yeon-woo shook his head.
"I don't remember. Maybe I just made it up."
Kim Se-yeong looked at him.
"Wow—if you don't mind my asking, what do you do? Are you a poet?"
Yeon-woo laughed as if the question had caught him completely off guard.
"Hahaha. A poet? I must have gotten too sentimental looking at the sunset. I'm a homicide detective."
"A detective? Then why are you going to a remote island like Chudo? Has something happened?"
Yeon-woo shook his head.
"No. I've had a string of murder cases lately. They told me to take a couple of weeks off, look at the scenery, rest. Some kind of PTSD-prevention protocol, apparently."
"Ah, I see. Still, you're doing good work."
Yeon-woo smiled and looked out over the audience.
"Everyone just does the work given to them in their own place."
At that moment the theater speakers crackled with an announcement.
Ah, this is the captain. The seas may grow rough, so all crew and passengers currently on deck, please return inside the ship.
With the announcement, Yeon-woo and Se-yeong moved indoors. Every light on stage went black again; then a light came up in the captain's cabin at the far left of the partitioned set.
"Captain! Storm warning. We'll have to put in at the nearest island and stop for a while."
At Ha Jae-hun's words, Woo Seong-sik checked the instruments in the cabin and nodded heavily.
"Right. Nearest island is Heukdo. Uninhabited, wasn't it?"
"Yes. Fishing boats put in there when the waves get high."
"Then head there. Jae-hun, you make the announcement."
"Understood."
The stage darkened and the speakers spoke again.
Ah, this is the navigator. A storm warning is now in effect. This vessel will temporarily dock at the nearby island of Heukdo and resume operations once the warning is lifted. We ask for your understanding of this unavoidable safety measure and apologize for the inconvenience…
The voice faded out. Five seconds of black silence followed, and the audience began, little by little, to whisper again about Yeon-woo and Jin Yu-han.
Then, without warning, a needle-sharp scream cut the dark.
Kyaaah—!
Startled spectators snapped their eyes wide and stared front. The main light flooded the entire stage once more. Kim Se-yeong came running, frantic, and collided with Kim Jun-su, who was mopping the corridor outside the cabins.
"Jun—Jun-su! The captain's collapsed! There's blood all over the floor of the captain's cabin. I think he's already dead."
"…What? Dead? The captain?"
Kim Se-yeong nodded and shoved Kim Jun-su's back.
"Don't tell the passengers yet—just bring the guest from Cabin 4 to the captain's cabin right now! I talked to him yesterday—he's a detective!"
"Cabin 4? Understood!"
Only then did the audience finally understand the genre of the play they were watching.
Ah. A murder has happened on the ship.
Neither the poster they had seen on the way in nor the ticket itself had carried anything beyond the simple title Mirror. Every spectator had walked in with zero advance information. They had simply been watching, still ignorant of the story, when the twin bombs named Jin Yu-han and Ryu Yeon-woo had detonated one after the other and left them reeling. But the relentless forward drive of the play made them set aside the question of why those two were here and sink into the story itself.
Bang bang bang—.
On the sound effect, Kim Jun-su pounded the empty air where Yeon-woo's cabin door would be.
"S-sir!"
Yeon-woo reached into space, mimed opening a door, and poked his head out.
"What is it?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to come with me for a moment. Something's happened on board."
"Something? Tell me on the way."
Yeon-woo followed Kim Jun-su out. They opened the door of the first cabin on the far left of the row.
"Hah!"
Kim Jun-su recoiled. Yeon-woo stepped inside. Woo Seong-sik lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling, blood everywhere. Yeon-woo checked the pulse at the neck, examined the body, then shook his head.
"Already dead. Murder. Which means the killer is someone on this ship."