*Wheebyul prompt from fairooz

Wheein is a consultant for the police who excels at reading criminals. She's never had doubt in her abilities until she meets her match in Moonbyul.

There is always a hidden secret within the stories she hears on a daily basis. Wheein knows. She always knows.

Of course, she accepts the fact that people inevitably lie. It can be a little slip of the tongue here, a conscious smudging of a dirty truth, or just a blatant deviation from the actual story.

Reasons? Some people have reasonable ones. Some lies can be harmless. When it’s one of those times, she just smiles through the conversation, not letting her indifference and disapproval show.

But occasionally, the lie within the truth can be a single feather floating towards the perilous balance of life and death. Then, that is when Wheein funnels her concentration toward prying open every detail possible.

PhD. Sparkling resume. Successful case study after case study. Recognition within the special task force. Jung Wheein is undeniably a desired asset. After all, who wouldn't envy that honed ability to dominate any social interaction or conversation?

So why are her skills failing her now?

---

“Brief me,” Wheein orders the plain-clothed cop sitting in the driver’s seat of the car. There’s a folder on her lap with a brief profile of the individual they are to meet up with, but Wheein has already skimmed through the pages with limited interest. What’s far more useful to her are the impressions made from person to person interactions.

“Miss Jung--”

“Come on Solar, you know you can just call me Wheein.”

“I have to maintain some sort of formality. My superiors’ orders.”

Wheein reaches over to flip off the radio switch with a scoff. “There. No one to listen in.”

“Wheein. You have too much of a disregard for rules,” reprimands the cop, eyes focused on the road ahead of her.

“It’s difficult to show respect for people when you know they’re lying to your face.”

“Wheein…”

“And what’s even worse, they know that I know. Have you seen your boss around me?” Wheein chuckles, but the smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “He fidgets at anything I say. And when I walk by him, he jumps up like 5 feet in the air.”

Solar curses at some motorbike that has just swerved and cut into her lane. “Should I go flag that guy?” Her hand is itching to flip on a switch and let loose those flashing red and blue lights, but then she realizes she's not in her patrol car.

“Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?” pouts Wheein.

“Of course.”

“You’re lying.”

Solar sighs, “Well of course you’d know.”

“Forget that biker. We have to go meet that person your boss assigned to us.” She uses the folder to swat Solar’s hand back toward the steering wheel. “So brief me, won’t you?” She picks up the photo that has slipped out between the sheets. “Your boss told me you’ve met this...Moonbyul before.”

“Moonbyul. That girl. If I hadn’t known you, I would have said she’s the most cunning girl I’ve ever met.”

“What does she do?” Wheein sifts through the pile again, interest renewed at Solar’s description. Cunning? She her dry lips as she tries to decipher the photo of this Moonbyul that Solar speaks so highly of. But the only picture the whole police county seems to have of the girl is a grainy photo taken across the street from a cafe. The short profile beneath it gives little else.

“I’m not sure about the specifics. But she’s very connected.”

“Organized crime?”

“She’s more of a middle man. Or middle-woman, in this case?”

“So in layman’s terms...”

“She connects the job to the means.”

“Ah.” Well that kind of work certainly requires some measure of brainpower. “Is she relatively new to the scene? You guys barely have anything on her.”

“She’s been around for a while. But she’s a smooth one. We’ve never been able to pin her for anything.”

“You don’t sound all too upset.” Wheein notices the briefly upturned lip of the cop next to her.

“I like her.”

“You're in love with a criminal?”

“Not that kind of like. My god, Wheein! Don't jump to conclusions.” Gravel crunches underneath the car tires as she maneuvers the car into the parking lot of a small restaurant. “I just have this feeling that she's a bit different from the rest. Like she's a good person, despite what she does.”

“I thought you called her cunning earlier.”

“In a good way. She's got a certain charm to her.”

“She could be faking it.”

“Well, you're meeting her yourself. You can tell me what you think after.”

“Got it. But what exactly am I supposed to be questioning her about today?”

The blazing hot sun beats down on their exposed arms as they step out of the car and into the restaurant.

Solar mutters to Wheein, “I'll do most of the talking. You just do your thing. Like usual.”

“Interesting place for a meeting though. It's,” Wheein studies the mellow lighting of the room and the hipster decor, “quaint.”

“That's just kind of how Moonbyul is. She's right there in the corner, by the way.”

Wheein’s gaze follows the jerk of Solar's chin to the girl from the photo. She is reclining against the back of her wooden chair, sipping contentedly from a coffee mug as she stares out the window.

“She looks calm and collected. You did tell her we were coming?”

“Yeah, she should be waiting for us.”

Moonbyul doesn't quite look like someone who is about to meet with a cop. Much less a criminal who is about to meet up with a cop. There is no tension whatsoever in those shoulders, and the arm that carries the mug is steady and confident.

Wheein's interest is piqued.

“What'd you say about me? Did you tell her about my specialty?”

“I just mentioned that a co-worker would be accompanying me.”

Wheein rubs her hands together and murmurs, “Excellent. Shall we go then?”

She follows behind Solar as they weave between the tables towards the girl by the window. Moonbyul puts down her coffee when she notices their approach.

The girl stands as they near, and offers a hand to Wheein.

“Pleased to meet you. I'm Moonbyul, but Solar must have already told you?”

A melodious laugh tumbles from as Wheein accepts the hand and shakes it. A good, firm handshake. There is most definitely confidence in those twinkling eyes.

“I'm Wheein.” She is rather bemused as she retracts her hand, wondering why Moonbyul is exhibiting such joy at their meeting. Those crinkles at the outer corner of Moonbyul's eyes are clearly natural and unforced. Yet, a criminal being happy to meet cops? The idea is simply preposterous.

“Where's my greeting,” whines Solar, most unprofessionally, as they all sit down, Wheein and Solar across from Moonbyul.

Moonbyul laughs again while Wheein watches her. “Come on, Solar, don't be petty. We're beyond simple greetings aren't we?”

Oh? Wheein side-eyes Solar to see a scoff accompanied by an eye roll. “You're getting a little cocky considering our positions.”

“Like you weren't the one to tell me to drop all that pretentiousness.”

“It was a friendly request!”

“Oh my.” Moonbyul claps a hand to her chest in mock surprise. “Friendliness? Who's the one forgetting our positions now?”

Wheein butts in before Solar can retaliate. Somehow, the conversation is steering far, far away from the original plan. And though Moonbyul does appear rather harmless from her first impression, Wheein can somewhat spy a hint of the cunningness that Solar has mentioned. Moonbyul has quite a smooth way with words.

“We should get down to business.”

“Determination and drive towards work. I like that,” admires Moonbyul. “Solar here gets distracted way too easily.”

“I do not!”

“She's an admirable cop nonetheless. She's just a little too soft in my opinion.” Moonbyul turns her head and meets Wheein's gaze squarely. Those eyes of her are piercing right through her. “Wouldn't you agree, Wheein?”

“Yes. Just a bit. But she's a good person and friend.” Wheein finds herself automatically answering and unable to tear away from Moonbyul's mellow gaze.

“What do you think about me then?” Again, the soft, yet strong words from the girl's mouth seem to compel her to answer.

“I-” Wheein mentally stops herself from swerving from the topic. Moonbyul is truly adept in directing conversation. It's no wonder she's managed to avoid the scrutiny of common cops. “Let's focus on the job first.”

“Very well.”

Wheein sees Moonbyul's lips briefly tilt downwards. Annoyance? Perhaps it is something to be noted. Moonbyul seems to enjoy dominating the conversation, a distinct desire for control.

When the waiter has left with their orders, Solar clasps her hands in front of her and leans forward with a hushed voice. “So what do you think I'm here for today, Moonbyul?”

“I'm not sure.” The girl sits back and crosses her arms with a frown.

A sign of retreat. Wheein's face remains impassive in her analysis. Moonbyul clearly has something to hide.

“The smuggling case…”

A fleeting scowl flashes across the girl's face. It isn't quite guilt, Wheein thinks. After all, the rest Moonbyul's features remain still and relatively creaseless. It's more similar to...disgust? Wheein's lips part slightly to let out a puff of surprise.

“Solar. I’ve told you before. I’m not directly involved in any of these cases.”

“But you must know something from your connections.”

“I would never taint my hands in something like that.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything Moonbyul.”

“The whole subject itself, is, quite irritating. So this is what you wanted to discuss?” She taps her fingers against the wooden table, eyebrows fiercely slanted downwards. “You realize I have to remain neutral? Can’t have some....associates assume I’m hand in hand with the police now, can I.”

“The kids though. Do you really want me to show you a picture of the condition of the kids we found in one storage crate?”

“I didn’t handle this one. I wouldn’t.”

Wheein pays attention to the tensed muscles around Moonbyul’s nose that twitch ever so slightly. It's scorn at the accusation.

“I believe you.”

Moonbyul turns a raised eyebrow at Wheein’s sudden words.

“Wheein. I never asked. Are you also a cop?”

“What does that have to do with this case?” asks Solar.

“Nothing whatsoever.” Her eyes stay focused on Wheein, however. “She seems a bit different from the typical beat cop one encounters.”

“Well, she--”

Wheein narrows her eyes and interrupts, “What do you mean, Moonbyul?”

“You’re being formal and professional, despite the fact that Solar’s probably briefed you about my profile. Typically, cops hold a certain prejudice against criminals. Well actually, most people react with prejudice if they know they’re talking with a criminal. Even criminals.” There’s an ever so faint ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Do go on.”

“You’re young. But you seem,” her eyes never waver from Wheein’s, “well experienced. I would call it being jaded about reality, but that’s not quite it, is it?”

“Then what am I?” The girl’s intelligence is extraordinary, Wheein has to admit. If Moonbyul really has no idea of who she is, then Solar’s description of the girl is on point. Cunning.

“Too young for a detective and you have none of the arrogance found in people who get into positions of authority early. But Solar regards you with a bit of respect. And you don’t abuse it.” Moonbyul nonchalantly adds in another cube of sugar into her coffee and stirs. “Private sector?”

“Mm. Interesting deduction,” Wheein replies.

“You won’t say anything solid in response? How about we make a trade?”

“I thought you said you weren’t involved.” Solar frowns at the sudden eagerness in the girl’s voice.

“I’m not. But I’ve heard things on the grapevine. All things have a price, though, I’m afraid.”

“What’s yours?”

“I want to talk to Wheein a bit longer. And in return, I’ll direct you to a...common rendezvous point for the smuggling ring you’re probably looking for.”

“Done.”

Solar fidgets in her seat, surprised at Wheein’s immediate agreement.

“Excellant. Here’s the address.” Moonbyul scribbles something on one of the napkins and slides it over to Solar. “Time is of the essence. You should get that to your boss as soon as possible. And remember, not a single mention of me in any of this. Got it?”

“Thanks again.” Solar nods gratefully to the girl while she scrunches the napkin in her hand. “I’ll be off first. Wheein, will you be fine?”

“I’ll call a cab later. See you later Solar.”

Once the cop is gone, Moonbyul does not hesitate to resume her questioning. “Why did you agree?”

“It was the most efficient way to get what we needed.”

“Aww. And here I was, hoping that you just wanted to spend more time with me.”

Wheein pulls her chair in closer to the table, hoping the decrease in distance will unbalance the other girl’s composure. “What about you, Moonbyul? Why did you want to talk in the first place?”

“I need some amusement. You wouldn’t believe how dull it can get, talking to thugs who have nothing but muscle in their heads. Or cops whose hands are just itching over the grips on their weapons when you just want to ask a simple question.”

“Why are you in this business then? When you clearly hate it?” Wheein’s curious about the disgust that is etched into Moonbyul’s face.

“I only hate how options in this field can be so limited. Especially when there’s a trail of paperwork that follows. But some things you can’t run away from.”

“For you, there’s barely any paperwork. Or is there something else you’re hiding?”

“You tell me. Should I call you doc? Or maybe professor?” Her eyes are staring very surely at Wheein while her half finished coffee stays untouched.

“You knew?”

“Now I do.” An unrestrained, smug smile takes over the girl’s face.

Wheein fights to stop her leg from jittering. It’s an unhealthy habit she has been unable to get over. Moonbyul is far more dangerous of an adversary than she had thought. Far more perceptive, and far more deceptive.

“You have a keen eye for a simple criminal.”

“Survival tactics. I don’t suppose you would understand what it’s like in the streets.”

“Are you sure you’re not some criminal mastermind behind the shadows?”

“I’m content with where I am in life. Except for the occasional need for entertainment.” Moonbyul leans forward, shoulders thrown back in confidence.

“Don’t you have other people to talk to other than your thugs and cops?”

“I suppose…” Moonbyul’s eyes go out of focus for a moment and the tense muscles around her eyes relax in a smile. “Yes I do.”

“Boyfriend?”

“More like a girlfriend. Curious?”

Wheein is shaken by the amusement dancing across the girl’s face, but she knows she must not look away or else Moonbyul will feel triumph. Curious? She forces down the curiosity that indeed rises up within her. She can’t deny she’s intrigued by the kind of person Moonbyul keeps by her side. Or the kind of person that’s willing to stay by the girl’s side. She shakes her head.

“Mmm. It’s probably wrong of me to wish you were curious then.”

Wheein can’t help the blush as she mutters, “You’re rather forward, aren’t you?”

“It’s a business requirement.”

“Tell me about your business then.”

“You’re asking a criminal about her job? And you expect me to answer when I’ve already established that you’re connected with the police?” Moonbyul laugh is a twinkling chime in Wheein’s ears. It’s refreshing and honest, coming from her bright expression.

“If you want to tell me. How about that?” Wheein shrugs both shoulders to hide her burning desire to know.

“Give and take. As I said before, all things have a price. Are you willing?”

Well it’s certain she will have the advantage here. Wheein has no doubt Moonbyul will slip in a lie here or there, despite the honesty she’s sure Moonbyul has shown earlier. Compulsive lying is a common trait of criminals, even if some are terrible at it.

There’s something off about Moonbyul, and Wheein needs more from the girl to find out what it is.

“Alright. What do you do?”

Moonbyul snickers, “You waste your first question on something you’ve already learned about me?”

“It’s often very different hearing about a person’s occupation from various people. It’s interesting, especially when it comes from the person’s own mouth.”

“Alright. What I do, you say?” Moonbyul's eyes flit left as her lips purse in concentration. “Middleman duties. As I mentioned, people often lack brains for brawn, and someone needs to do the thinking. I find jobs, develop ideas about them, and sell such ideas to people who are interested.”

If she hadn't known Moonbyul's criminal ties, she could have fallen for that smooth business pitch right there and then. “You have a way of making things awfully vague.”

Moonby winks at her and says, “Got to be careful of what you say to people close to cops. Especially trained people. So what do you say, you tell me what you're trained in?”

“I thought you had an idea.”

“I had a guess. I want specifics.” Moonbyul pushes her coffee mug to the side and rests her chin on her hands. She leans even closer towards Wheein, if that is at all possible, and it takes Wheein all her self control to avoid inching back.

“I study people.”

“And you called me vague,” mutters Moonbyul.

“People and their emotions and reactions,” she reluctantly adds.

“I guess I should be more on guard around you then? Can't have all my secrets pried open.”

“Something you need to hide that badly? Maybe you dabble in worse crimes than what you've mentioned?”

Crystal clear surprise is on the girl's face before her, based on the slightly raised eyebrows and parted lips that disappear as soon as they appear. But Moonbyul doesn't shy away at the accusation and stays annoyingly close to her.

There are so many mixed signals. She's positive that disappointment soon follows the surprise, with the thinned lips on a set jaw. But all that disappears in a flash too. And the most annoying part is that she can't even quite connect the emotion to the reason.

Surprise? Why is Moonbyul surprised? Asking a criminal about criminal activities shouldn't be unexpected. She doubts that the surprise is from getting the accusation right. And sisappointment. Well, she doesn't really have an explanation for that at all.

“Really now. You've soured the mood, Wheein," complains Moonbyul, but the lilt in her tone has lost the bubbliness.

“I-I apologize if I went overboard with that.” She hangs her head at Moonbyul's overcast eyes.

Why is she apologizing though? To a criminal, no less. But Moonbyul's expression just seems so forlorn, so hurt, that Wheein's guilt gets triggered. The last question was a bit harsh.

“Hey, don't worry.”

Wheein feels a warmth on her head and seconds later she looks up to see Moonbyul's hand outstretched and gently tousling her hair.

“I've had worse insults directed at me. Don't be so down. You're looking unprofessional.”

Those eyes that smile at her are so gentle, so caring. Wheein is baffled, because those eyes are not the eyes of a criminal. They shouldn't be.

“Smile. That reminds me, you haven't really smiled since you've gotten here, have you? How about you smile as an apology?”

“What's with you.” But Wheein smiles, and it grows just a bit wider when Moonbyul beams back.

Maybe they're just a bit too physically close at the moment, considering the fact that they're just goofily smiling at each other for a few seconds too long. Moonbyul coughs lightly and removes her hand, sitting straight up in her chair once more. However, not before Wheein notices her dilated pupils.

Dilated pupils? From what she's studied, that could mean several things. Most often, stress. It could be from guilt, fear, or anger.

There's another cause, but Wheein brushes it away. After all, why would Moonbyul feel affection towards her? And arousal? Not a chance.

“Professor. You're much easier to look at like this.”

Wheein can't understand why Moonbyul's suddenly using formalities to distance herself. The expression that's now set is also unusually guarded.

“I just try to be honest with my emotions and smile when I actually do care.”

“Honesty. Hmm. A rather ambiguous concept.”

“What can be ambiguous about honesty? It's the only black and white picture that can be trusted. No bias, no faults.” Wheein nibbles on her bottom lip, unable to hide her confusion. Her hand brushes her untouched coffee, but she doesn't realize how cold it has become because of how bloodless her hands are.

“Colors are just colors. If the artist is skilled enough, the audience sees whatever mix the artist has decided to show.” Moonbyul's phone vibrates and she frowns when she sees the block of letters of the name.

“You seem distraught.”

Moonbyul's frown does deepen when the phone vibrates once more to signal the arrival of a message. “It's my girlfriend.”

Wheein's puzzled. For there is no evidence of a lie on Moonbyul's face. But what she does see are her eyebrows raised and drawn together. Fear. Why would Moonbyul fear her girlfriend?

Nothing about Moonbyul is making sense.

“Damn. Looks like I got to go.”

“Ok. Bye.”

“That's all?” For a moment, the light-hearted teasing expression returns to Moonbyul's face. “You're so cold.”

“It's a habit of mine. Hard to empathize when you know people are lying to you.”

“Well. Do you like surprises?”

The sudden random question knocks Wheein out of equilibrium, and she is unsure about the childlike grin on the girl's face. “S-Sure?”

She feels Moonbyul's warm palms slip on top of her cold ones and the brown eyes focus on hers once again.

“Watch me close ok?” Moonbyul chuckles at Wheein's bemused expression. She opens . “I don't have a girlfriend.” She pauses to let her words sink in. “Now professor, was I lying? Or telling the truth?”

Truth. That's what Wheein's instincts and trained eye are screaming. Truth, because every single one of Moonbyul's gestures indicate it. Truth, because the pulse felt beneath her fingertips is eerily steady.

But it can't be true. Because of earlier.

“I really have to go now.” Without waiting for an answer, Moonbyul stands and picks up her stuff. Before she leaves, however, she pauses and leans to whisper in Wheein's frozen ear. “One last thing.”

Moonbyul is truly cunning with her words and perfect timing.

“I really like you, Wheein.”

And then she is gone. Leaving Wheein with the bill and a whole lot of questions.

Where is the truth? Where is the lie? Why is there a tinge of desperation within her hoping that some of it is true?

For the first time on her life, Wheein is utterly lost. And Moonbyul is to blame.