Game of Revenge [pt. 3]: The Opponent’s Move

Jungkook sat up abruptly in his cushioned seat, rubbing the fatigue out of his eyes harshly. Bewilderment knitted his brows together tightly as he stared at the paused footage in front of him, the static signal forcing the picture to be annoyingly blurry. But it was enough for him to see what he intended to see. Taking a portion of the skin on his forearm between his fingers, he pinched himself to make sure that it wasn’t a dream.  

It can’t be.

His eyes remained transfixed upon the glowing surface, on the three figures revealed by the security camera that required him two hours to access.

“Is that…?” he whispered to himself, his voice quivering with amazement.

RM. It’s definitely him.

Jungkook rewinded the video, and stared at the back profile in motion. It was real, this wasn’t merely his illusion. Every piece of information he was able to derive from the minimal clues about this anonymous criminal matched the man on the screen; activity time, gender, height. He was even searching for the same type of person RM always targeted, the same type of person that always disappeared whenever he was active: other criminals with a tattoo on the left wrist and a limping leg. Most importantly, Jungkook’s instinct was screaming at him, confirming that his suspicions were correct. And he always trusted his intuition.  As unbelievable as it was, it seemed as if he has finally managed to find a visual about the unknown person he has been tracking for the past two years.

He leaned back in his chair, neck bending in gratitude and relief. I can finally close this case, he sighed.

There was nothing in the world he could’ve wanted more in this moment than to solve the mystery he has been given ever since he started working at this office. It was his first case, and longest case, as RM continuously committed more felonies throughout the years. Other investigators had been searching for him even before the files were passed on to Jungkook, but their attempts proved fruitless, and soon enough, RM was the most infamous criminal in this and every other bordering city, with no sane officer or detective wanting take his case. Everyone understood how hopeless and exhausting it would be, even Jungkook.

But of course, by a disdaining arrangement of fate, the case files were sitting on Jungkook’s desk the first morning he entered his office in the new police station he was assigned to work at, a heavy paper box containing his possessions in his hands. The case that no one was willing to slave over had been shoved into his own arms.

“Show me that you’re as brilliant as everyone says you are,” his captain had instructed him before swiftly turning on his heels to strode out the new office, leaving Jungkook alone within the brightly illuminated room, head in his heads in frustration. Jungkook knew that the captain’s remark was referring to the rumors and discussions that were floating around about himself — the young detective who had managed to obtain his investigator’s license merely two years after he entered the police academy, having passed all his courses with excellent grades and flying colors. And being the first and youngest candidate to accomplish such achievements, he became a legend amongst all other investigators and officials within the country. All eyes were turned to him, the prodigy, to investigate this case, and along with the fact that no other detectives were able to even collect a single clue about this criminal, RM’s overflowing criminal records and blank profile were now Jungkook’s responsibility, and he could do nothing but accept it through gritted teeth.

RM identified as a witty convict, alright, and his case was proven to be even more tedious and difficult than Jungkook had expected from the beginning. He left no hints, no profile, no face to match, no headquarter location, and no online history. He was an experienced hacker, Jungkook had figured, because even the videos from the several security cameras dispersed throughout the city were not able to capture his appearance. The videos that RM didn’t already delete, of course.

Yet here he was now, grainy and colorless, on Jungkook’s computer screen.

Jungkook rewinded that portion of the footage for about the twentieth time, squinting at RM’s towering figure. Puzzled, he pondered while still glueing his gaze to the screen, why is this here? How come he didn’t wipe video clean yet? He checked the time at the corner of the recording, which read 1:50 AM, then lifted his head to peek at the round wall clock hanging motionlessly against the office’s ivory wall.

4:45 AM.

Odd. He’s probably back at his headquarters by now. There was certainly enough time for him to delete this, and he usually would’ve by now. But this time he didn’t. Why?

As he clicked the play button, observing all that happened on the screen with a keen eye, Jungkook suddenly noticed the hand RM had pressed firmly to his side, and the way he bowed his head.

He’s injured.

Reversing the footage even further from the spot he had started watching, Jungkook inclined his body towards the vibrant display. He witnessed closely as the threatening tip of a small knife was directed towards RM instead of the other female victim curled in the corner of the alley. The culprit who gripped the knife was crouched low, his stance giving away his plans to attack RM, who had seemed to want to corner the criminal. The armed man remained still for a moment on the display, all muscles taunt. Then he lashed out, movements so quick that he soon transformed into a blur in the black and white footage. The blade he clutched was clearly aimed at RM, who was unaware of his opponent’s desire to attack, and Jungkook watched him grab his side as the knife disappeared into his body until only the hilt was visible. Even under his hood and dark mask, it was obvious that RM was in agony.

Then the footage disconnected. Jungkook stared in despair as the screen blinked rapidly from the static reception, then turned pitch-black.

The screen mocked him with its emptiness, and he dropped his head onto his folded arms, groaning in frustration. He stayed still like that for a while, although his mind was whirring a thousand miles per hour through the dense silence with his new discovery. When he had lifted his head up again, Haejin’s face smiled up at him, although her complexion in the photo was slightly faded from the wear of time.

“Haejin-ah,” he whispered, not sure if his comforting tone was for her or himself, “I’ve finally found him. No...not your murderer, but I’ll be getting on to that soon. I promise. But I found another guy who is also looking for someone with a tattoo and a crippled leg, maybe he’ll have some information.”

Next, he shifted his attention to the other side of the photo, where Namjoon’s arm was wrapped around Jungkook’s own shoulders and a dimpled grin stretched across his face. He imagined what Namjoon would have looked like by now, although the memories and faces have grown foggy despite how hard he tried to keep them clear. Namjoon probably would’ve carried his shoulders in an even stronger, more masculine posture, or perhaps would’ve had an unshaven stubble. Yet, Jungkook was peering at a smooth faced boy in the old photograph instead of the powerful man Namjoon would’ve turned into if he was still alive.

“Are you happy now, Joonie? Are you resting with Haejin in heaven, or wherever people went after death? Don’t worry, buddy, I’m doing okay on my own, although it does get a little lonely sometimes. Sometimes I miss the small dent in your cheek that always followed your smile, and I miss the sound of Haejin’s laugh. I still can’t believe I’m the only one left now, the only survivor of the trio that we all assumed was so firm and unbreakable. Just look at us now.” Jungkook’s pupils traced the reflection of the lone tear that made its way steadily off his cheeks unto his chin in the glass of the photo, and managed a broken exhale. He continued to talk.

“I’m one step closer, you know? After I capture this RM guy, I can force some information out of him. He looks a lot like you, Joonie, which is strange, because I know you wouldn’t have turned into someone like that. But he is even searching for the same type of person I am looking for, that we were looking for. And if I didn’t know better, if you were still alive, I would’ve guessed it was you.”

Jungkook tore his focus from the photo, and tried to even out his now erratic breathing. Pulling himself away from his office chair, he picked up the telephone that sat on his desk and dialed the patrol center. He reported his discoveries, and informed the receptionist on the other side of line of the location he wanted to inspect. The alley in the video was one Jungkook was familiar with, having been on many searches around that area looking for criminal activity, and the graffitied surroundings giving the location away. After he made sure he had an experienced investigation team prepared for him, he tenderly caressed the cold glass surface of the photo frame and the two happy faces within once more before leaving his office.

Outside, dawn has yet to arrive, and the air was especially cool, allowing him to see his warm breath transform into a foggy cloud before his eyes. He walked in front, just like he always did when he led the way out of an exploration site when he went wandering around the city with Haejin and Namjoon, except this time it was not his best friends that trailed behind him. Instead, it was a group of trained policemen and their apprentices, their footsteps bouncing off the walls of the most secluded, dangerous part of the city.

“Sir, who are we looking for this time?” A new, inexperienced officer asked, excitement from his first investigation reaching his eyes and causing them to twinkle in the dim night.

“A criminal named RM,” Jungkook replied flatly, not even looking at the young man who has now fallen in synchronized steps besides him.

“Isn’t that the one who kills off other offenders? Why are we hunting someone like that down? I mean, in a way he’s doing a good thing, right?”

“He may be killing other culprits now, but how will you make sure that he doesn’t grow bored and start murdering innocent people instead, huh?” He shot an angry glare at the rookie, who was pondering Jungkook’s wise words.

As they approached the same alley as the one in the footage, Jungkook held out an arm to stop the small crowd behind him. The footsteps shuffled to a halt, and he signaled only two people to follow him into the narrow space, while ordering the rest to just keep watch. He paced down the aisle carefully, eyes darting around to search for any possible evidences; abandoned weapons, fingerprints, blood.

Nothing. RM had wiped his traces clean again.

Jungkook was just about to whip back around and walk out of the alley when a speck of color caught the corners of his eyes. Startled and surprised, he quickly strode towards its direction, and was met with purple remains of an unknown substance where RM had stood in the security camera recording. Bending down to get a closer view, he suddenly became alarmed when he realized what it was. Notes of a subtle aroma floated around the area he was crouching in, confirming his suspicions, yet increasing his anxiety. He all too well that the fragrance had come from the bruised purple flower pedal on the grimy floors, flattened most likely by the bottom sole of a shoe of the person who had brought it here.

Lavender.

Surprisingly, it was a plant that wasn’t too common around the city, but Jungkook knew exactly where the only place in which the violet flower grew wild and freely was. And that’s what concerned him the most.

Jungkook crouched down by the low, marble platform that stood before the headstone and placed the flowers upon it. The light scent of the freshly picked lavenders blended pleasantly with the other small patches of its kind that flourished next to the stone. Although the burial spot was not a spacious, fancy cemetery but merely a small meadow, it was the only spot in the entire city where the flowers sprouted, which was the reason she was put to rest here.

“Haejin-ah, it’s me, Jungkook. I’ve come to visit you again, and brought your favorite flowers. I...I have...I have something horrible to tell you.” Tears had began to flow from the corners of his eyes already, making his voice crack with grief, and he allowed them to slide down his cheeks, for his thoughts were preoccupied at the moment.

He saw in his mind’s eye the morbid document, and he saw the way Namjoon’s mother’s tears refracted the light. He remembered staring at the document for a long time, way longer than he would’ve liked to. His eyes scanned the single sheet of paper up and down, absorbing every piece of information, from name to date to cause of death.

Namjoon is dead. He is gone too.

Jungkook had refused to accept that fact. He had yet to process that some drunk driver had seized the life of his best friend whom he had not seen in six months since Namjoon left home, all because of one death certificate that arrived in the Kims’ mailbox. They couldn’t even find his body because the driver probably hid it to erase the evidences. But he couldn’t deny the death either, after all, an official document, signed and sealed, had been placed right before his eyes.

Coming out of his memories and into the cruel, harsh reality, he traced his fingertips upon the deeply engraved name, which read “Lee Haejin”, and felt the bitter winter chill seep through the marble and into his body. It made Jungkook sick to the core. For the first time after he saw the death certificate, a sudden loneliness settled in, then followed by emptiness, gouging out all emotions out of his body.

“How can he leave me like this? I didn’t even get to see him one last time. And I’ll never be able to do it now.”

He let out a deep exhale before supporting himself up and walking away from the headstone, leaving behind the bouquet of lavender and the small field of the same flower that grew around the grave.

And that was the last time he visited Haejin, for Jungkook just simply couldn’t find the heart, courage, or time to do it again. That was also the last time he saw the miniature sea of lavender that kept her resting body company, and smelled the its soothing fragrance.

But now he has to go back.