Signed with Today's Date

The name Yun Hajun still sat in the unconfirmed exit column.

Seojin didn't answer. Her finger stopped, hovering over the screen. The voice inside the staff room didn't call her noona again. That silence was harder to take.

Doyun spoke.

"Evidence first."

Seojin nodded. She handed the timecode off to Dokyung and the witness signature to Bora. Eunchae started mirroring the server. Once the roles were split, Seojin's finger finally left the screen.

The supervisor's voice called Yun Hajun's name twice.

No answer the first time.

No answer the second time either.

Bora spoke instead.

"Name called twice. No response. Witness Kim Bora."

Seojin wrote the sentence down. The urge to answer for Hajun went unrecorded. What needed recording was action.

Once the roll call ended, the staff room door opened normally.

There was no one inside. A pen with fresh ink lay on the desk, along with a single exit confirmation sheet. The ink was still wet enough to smear.

Yun Hajun.

Today's date.

The signature didn't match the handwriting Seojin remembered from young Hajun. Eleven years could have changed it. It could have been forged. Seojin wrote neither.

Under the confirmation sheet, a half printed page hung from the printer, cut off partway. At the top was the name Baekro Academy, and the middle line was broken off. Exit confirmation subject, Yun Hajun. The line for the person in charge below it was blank. The printer's power light was on, but the error light was blinking alongside it.

Eunchae checked the power-on time.

"It wasn't just turned on. It's been sitting on standby the whole time."

Seojin wrote down printer on standby, partial output, person in charge left blank. It wasn't proof that someone had sat there in person. But it was a fact that while the door was locked, the equipment inside had produced a document dated today.

The staff room door lock records arrived late too. The screen Eunchae sent showed four unlock requests. Zero attendants, no evacuation officer assigned, director's authorization delayed, interior door lock maintained. No single one was the cause. The four lines had overlapped, and that was why students stayed in the corridor.

Seojin wrote the four lines down separately. Combined into one, someone would have found a way out. The director would only mention the authorization delay, and the response agency could only mention the missing evacuation officer. The door didn't open when all four reasons existed at once.

Eunchae spoke.

"There's a partial fingerprint. It's not complete."

Only half a finger's mark remained on the corner of the confirmation sheet. There was a broken line that looked like a scar, but it wasn't enough to confirm identity. Seojin wrote insufficient. She didn't write insufficient evidence as if it were a finished fact.

Doyun checked under the desk. There were no human footprints. Instead, there was a fresh mark from a chair wheel. The staff room door had been locked until just now, and the window was locked from the inside. Seojin wrote the three lines side by side.

No physical presence.

Signs of use present.

Entry route unconfirmed.

It wasn't enough to write that Hajun had been there, and it wasn't enough to write that he hadn't. So she left it as unconfirmed.

Bora looked at the pen and spoke.

"If someone just used this pen, there should be ink on it."

Seojin didn't pick up the pen right away. She put on gloves and opened the evidence envelope. Black ink was still wet at the pen's tip. The brand was an ordinary academy office pen. That it wasn't anything special made it better. If it had been special, it could have looked like a prop someone had planted.

Bora wanted to take a photo of the pen, then stopped herself.

"Can I take a picture?"

Seojin didn't grant permission right away. More people taking photos meant more copies. More copies meant no one would know who had posted first. She left only Dokyung's camera, Eunchae's server mirror, and the response agency's evidence envelope number.

"Right now we're only doing witness signatures."

Bora pressed her lips together, unhappy. Still, she wrote it in her file. Pen checked, photo not taken. Her handwriting was slow. As she pressed out each letter one at a time, the ink began to dry.

Dokyung fit the pen and the confirmation sheet into the same frame. He didn't film Seojin's face.

Bora stood in front of the door.

"I saw the name. I didn't see the person."

"Write it exactly like that."

Bora wrote it in her own file. Yun Hajun's name confirmed. Physical presence unconfirmed.

The students were on the first floor calling their guardians. Jeongmin and Lee Seohyeon confirmed each other's names once more before heading home. Park Minjae got his phone back, but the arrival notification showed two separate times. Eunchae saved that error too.

Baekro Academy received a suspension order. In front of the firefighters, the director repeated the discrepancy between the actual twenty-six students present and the twenty-three names on the insurance roster. Dokyung filmed the scene. There were no student faces in it, only the director's hands and the roster numbers.

The parents all grew angry at once. Some asked about next week's mock exam before asking about the academy's closure, and some asked whether their own child was one of the three names missing from the roster. Seojin didn't answer for anyone. She repeated that names would only be released after the individuals were confirmed.

Bora heard that and gripped her file tighter.

"I'll say my own name."

"You don't have to say it now."

"I know. But I'll decide when."

Seojin nodded. Bora was no longer a simple witness, but she wasn't part of the field team either. She was choosing her own place somewhere in between.

Bora said she wanted to become a special investigator.

"I'm good at finding this kind of thing."

Seojin didn't refuse right away.

"Today you're going home. First we settle the witness protection procedure."

"And after that?"

"After that, you choose again yourself. Your parents will know too."

Bora's face stayed unhappy, but she put her file in her bag. The corner of the file was crumpled, and a convenience store receipt was taped to it with clear tape. She hadn't thrown it away.

Jeongmin and Lee Seohyeon waited for Bora. The three didn't ride in the same car. Each needed separate guardian confirmation. But before getting in, they called each other's names once. Just once. They raised their hands instead of confirming a second time.

Bora watched that and spoke.

"I think this is going to become a habit."

"Habits help, but you shouldn't trust them like a rule."

Seojin said that and stopped herself. She hadn't yet received the line about not trusting the rules, but she was already saying something close to it. Bora didn't write that sentence in her file. Instead she wrote today's date and the time she got home.

When Bora's parents arrived, Bora didn't hold out the file first. She showed her own wrist first. The smeared name, the letters from Jeongmin and Lee Seohyeon, the traces of erasing. Her parents didn't immediately understand what it meant. Bora explained slowly.

"I'll tell you later. Just keep a photo of this for now."

Her parents wanted to ask many questions, but Bora didn't get in the car first. She only moved after watching Jeongmin and Lee Seohyeon get into their own cars. She needed confirmation that she wasn't the only one who had been rescued.

Seojin wrote down that Bora's return home was confirmed with a guardian present, her own file in her possession, and the right to refuse further filming.

Dokyung didn't ask Bora's parents for an interview. Instead he handed over his business card and said any contact would come after tomorrow. It was the first scene where slow consent came before fast reporting. He hadn't changed completely. The hand offering the card was quick, and his eyes kept measuring the academy sign and the fire department's cordon.

Eunchae sent over the results of the academy server mirror. Not the entire original, but the paths, call logs, and part of the supplementary roster. Not enough. But better than nothing.

"Full recovery needs the original from the response agency's side."

"Sounds like Miran will be taking it."

Doyun said.

Seojin looked at the staff room envelope. Miran hadn't arrived yet. Before the evidence had even arrived, someone was already looking for a way out.

Two more reporters had shown up in front of the academy. They hadn't come because of Dokyung's channel. Word of the fire department call and the academy's closure had spread fast. Dokyung had been there before them, but he hadn't posted first.

"Why didn't you post it?"

another reporter asked.

Dokyung checked his camera's remaining battery as he answered.

"The students haven't consented yet."

The words still felt unfamiliar to him. That's why they came out a little stiff. Seojin didn't write that sentence down separately. It was already recorded in his actions.

Seo Miran came to the scene in person.

She arrived later than the firefighters and earlier than the press briefing. Miran looked at the confirmation sheet on the staff room desk and the original S.M. card. Her expression didn't change.

"Those documents transfer to the response agency's envelope."

Seojin held onto the envelope.

"Who is S.M.?"

Miran didn't answer.

"Yun Hajun's name was written with today's date."

"I saw it."

"Explain it."

Before putting the confirmation sheet in the envelope, Miran wrote down the time of the photograph. Her hands weren't fast. They were the hands of someone who knew procedure.

"If this document goes out, more names get called."

Dokyung spoke right away.

"You can't take it back with that kind of talk."

"I'm not trying to take anything back. This is a risk disclosure."

Dokyung didn't smile. He showed her the original hash value.

"A de-identified copy is stored outside. The location is delayed."

Miran looked at him.

"That might not be enough."

"That's why we're demanding an explanation."

Instead of answering, Miran wrote her own name in the envelope's recipient field. Seo Miran. This time, not initials. But she didn't say she was the one who had written the S.M. card.

Seojin wrote down that distinction. Recipient Seo Miran. Approver S.M. Identity unconfirmed.

Miran looked at that sentence.

"Fine. Write it that way."

"You're not denying it?"

"If I deny it now, it becomes fact without confirmation. It would be the same if I affirmed it."

Miran's words didn't sound like protection. They also sounded like evasion. They could be both. Seojin didn't write her own judgment. She only recorded the statement.

Before sealing the envelope's opening, Miran read through the list of items received. Original S.M. card, one sheet. Today's dated exit confirmation sheet, one sheet. Partial printout, one sheet. Wet pen, one item. Photos of the staff room seal, three photos. She read each item one by one and asked Bora whether she had heard any of this.

Bora didn't nod.

"Can I write down what I don't know?"

"You can."

Bora wrote it in her file. Don't know S.M. Don't know if Hajun was physically there. Don't know who used the pen. Three don't knows sat on the same line. Dokyung didn't film that line.

Doyun asked Miran a question.

"That card from four years ago, did you see it?"

Miran looked at Doyun.

"I saw it."

"Did you write it?"

Miran didn't answer right away. That silence could be recorded. Seojin wrote down response delayed.

"Right now the follow up for the students comes first."

Doyun didn't ask any further. The question remained. Miran remained too. There was no absolution.

Miran looked over the copy of the student roster, then held out an envelope to the director as well.

"This is notice of operational suspension. Night study sessions are banned until a separate investigation concludes."

The director tried to protest, but the firefighters were right there. The parents were there too. He stopped in front of the signature line. This time, it wasn't a situation where the document would disappear if he didn't sign. Everyone was watching.

The director signed.

Bora watched the scene from inside the car. The window was closed, so she couldn't hear the sound, but she saw the director lift the pen. She wrote academy operations suspended in her own file. The handwriting shook, but it wasn't erased.

Seojin looked at that file and spoke.

"Today's record ends here."

"What about Hajun?"

Bora asked.

Seojin didn't answer right away.

"Hajun is unconfirmed."

"You'll still find him, right?"

"After the number lookup is done, and two witnesses come forward."

Bora didn't like that answer, but she didn't ask anything further. She understood that talk of a number lookup and two witnesses meant it would be slow.

Confirmation that all the students had returned home was complete. Last, Bora showed Seojin her own wrist. Kim Bora's name was smeared, but still readable. The letters Jeongmin and Lee Seohyeon had traced were still there too.

"Can I erase this?"

"The photo and the signature have both been confirmed. It's your call."

Bora slowly wiped it away with a wet wipe. This time, erasing the name wasn't deletion. It was closure.

Seojin's phone rang.

The caller's number wasn't saved. But she knew the number itself. It was Hajun's old number, disconnected eleven years ago.

The text was one line.

Noona, don't trust the rules.

Seojin didn't open the reply box. Doyun and Bora were beside her. Dokyung's camera was lowered. On the other end of the call, Eunchae started running a number lookup.

A second text arrived.

Come to window number zero.

Seojin captured the screen. She didn't write a reply. Miran saw the text and didn't look surprised. Instead, she folded the envelope's opening once more.

"Don't go alone."

Whether those words were a warning or an order, there was no way to tell.

Seojin put her phone in her pocket. Outside the academy, students were getting into their guardians' cars one by one. The case was over, but the signature dated today and the disconnected number were not.