Triggering You | Moon Baek [Trigger] x Reader

I'm a Good Girl, Officer

You sit on the floor with the box still open, the roses bleeding their perfume into the air, the bullets gleaming with that merciless shine. Your hands won't stop trembling, no matter how tightly you lace your fingers together.

"Im calling the police," you say finally, your voice sharp to mask the quiver that runs beneath. "This—this isn't something we can laugh off anymore, Min-Ji. This isn't a prank." But before you can reach for your phone, Min-Ji's gasp cuts through the room. "Y/n, wait!"

She's staring at the television across the apartment, remote clutched tight in her hand. On the screen, the red banner of breaking news flashes across the channel, the words heavy and frantic:

Mass Shooting at Goshiwon Dormitory. Several Dead.

You freeze. The news anchor's voice, calm but fractured, pours into the room: "Police confirm that the suspect, 20 year old Yu Jeong Tae, opened fire inside his dormitory/residence just after midnight. Reports state he killed multiple student and residents, as well as the dorm manager, before being subdued by law enforcement. Officials are still investigating how the suspect obtained the firearms. Sources say the weapons appear identical to those linked to the recent surge of illegal trafficking..."

The camera cuts to the scene: flashing lights, crowds pressed against barricades, paramedics carrying stretchers covered in white sheets. Students are crying, their voices rising into the night as officers hold them back.

Ten minutes ago.

That's what the anchor says. Ten minutes ago, while you were lifting the lid of the box in your apartment, someone else was lifting a gun and firing into a crowd of people his own age. Your chest tightens until you can't breathe. The bullets in the roses burn in your vision. Not just symbols. The same caliber. The same metal. The same signature as the ones that just murdered an entire dormitory.

Min-Ji turns toward you slowly, her face drained of color. "Y/N...it's not a joke. Whoever sent you those bullets—he has access to the same guns. He's part of this."

Your phone still waits on the table, the screen black and silent. But you don't reach for it now. Because something deep inside you whispers the truth: if you call the police, if you hand the box over, you're not just exposing the stalker—you're exposing yourself. You'll become part of the same story you're supposed to be reporting. The same story the entire country is about to suffocate under.

And worse...whoever sent those bullets won't forgive you for betraying him.

You press a hand to your temple, closing your eyes against the pulse of panic. "I can't stay here, Min-Ji," you whisper. "Not when I don't know who's watching me. Not when the same weapons are already killing people in the streets."

Min-Ji nods quickly, too quickly, fear sharpening her voice. "Then we'll go. You and me. We'll disappear for a while until this settles. We'll figure this out together."

You almost missed it. It was only when you bent to close the box again, careful not to disturb the roses or bullets lined into that impossible vow, that you saw the envelope pressed flat against the bottom panel, almost hidden. A document. Not printed for you, not signed, no letterhead, just a list.

Name.
Ages.
Addresses.
Occupation.

Every person marked on that page carried a single shared note beside their entry: recipient. Recipient of what, you didn't have to ask. The bullets in your "gift" answered well enough. Your name was not there, and somehow that unsettled you more than if it had been. Min-Ji leaned over your shoulder, frowning as she picked up the page. "This—this is insane. Y/N, if this is real, these are the people getting guns. We have proof. We could—"