e p i s o d e   v i

“Do you remember me? It’s me, Suho.”

“Ah, I’m sorry sir. I don’t believe you’ve contacted us before. Can I take a message?”

“Please don’t lie to me,” the other’s voice is eerily calm, yet it contains a cold undertone that has Yixing hesitating in caution. “I already have an associate disabling the phone’s wiretap and recording system, and your tech people won’t be able to track my location or this phone after this call.”

“You seem to be taking quite a few precautions, Suho-ssi,” Yixing twirls the phone cord around his finger. “All just to talk to simple little me.”

“One must take such appropriate measures when dealing with people of your field and their caliber,” the man that calls himself Suho lets out a sigh. “But it’s worth it if I get to spend even the slightest of seconds with you.”

“I’m flattered, I really am. But I don’t think I deserve such attention.” Yixing looks around warily, surveying their front room and the street it overlooks.

As though sensing his behavior, Suho is quick to console him. “Don’t worry Yixing, my love. I am not watching you from afar and would not choose to do so. You were the one that suggested we all need our privacy, after all.”

“You-” Yixing blinks, the memory of his own quote beginning to dawn upon him, “The serial killer from last year.”

“You do remember,” there’s an unnerving level of ecstasy in Suho’s breathy voice, as though that was all he needed to hear. And it was. “I was worried you had forgotten all about me.”

“Don’t tell me-”

“I’m afraid so,” the tone of voice turns to what could almost be considered guilt, though Yixing is sure that the other is feeling nothing of the sort. “My friend insists that you don’t appreciate it when I drop you dead bodies-”

“Smart friend,” Yixing grumbles, “Most people usually first try with flowers.”

“-but I know that this is the only way to bring you to me.”

“Dropping me dead bodies is only going to put you and your buddies behind bars, believe it or not.” Yixing says in a rather snarky tone. “If the only reason you’re playing with people’s lives is because you think that it’ll make me swoon, I-”

“But it’s not about that, is it?” the other’s voice trembles in what Yixing can barely make out as a twisted excitement. “Listen to you, getting all riled up because of me. This is what I needed. It all makes sense now. Because of you, this is so-”

“Wrong.”

“Fun. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. Yixing, my love, I’ve crossed over the line far too long ago to make amends in the legal world in an attempt to fill the hollowness I felt inside me. To truly live in this dull, average world. And thanks to you, I feel that thrill again. That spark of emotion or some sort of crazy chemical working its wonders in my mind.”

“If anything’s crazy at the moment, it’s got to be you.” Yixing snipes darkly.

“You may very well be right,” the voice chuckles, “Whether you come to accept my love or not, there’s at least one thing I’ll know when I leave you my next gift, and all the ones after that.”

Yixing grits his teeth. “And what’s that?”

“That you’ll come running after me,” the reply is but a hushed whisper, yet it makes Yixing’s heart pound with an inexplicable sensation, “And we all know that the line between love and hate is much thinner than it seems. Good night, my saving grace.”

And then the line goes dead with a soft click.

Minseok is greeted the next morning with a rather extravagant floral arrangement sitting at his feet by the building entrance.

“Morning,” an all too familiar voice breathes into his ear from behind as he’s fumbling for his keys to unlock the front door. He’s usually the first one up and the one opening up when Yifan isn’t pulling his all-nighters on a rough case.

Minseok spins around with his lips pursed and hands on his hips, praying that his face isn’t heating up from their close proximity. “Oh, haha. Very funny Lu. When’d you get the time to order this when we were up all night looking at evidence?”

“Huh?” Lu Han furrows his brows in confusion until he see Minseok gesture to the arrangement on the ground. “What are you talking… about?”

Minseok’s arms fall to his sides. “Wait, this wasn’t some joke of yours to send me flowers?”

“No- I-” Lu Han’s never looked this flustered before. “Do- Did you want me to send you flowers?”

“I-” If Minseok’s face didn’t heat up previously, it most certainly did just now. “That’s- that’s not what I meant…”

Lu Han’s pink face of his own slowly begins to shift back to his usual teasing and playful expression. “Did I just hear you correctly?”

“Don’t-”

“You want me to send you flowers, do you?” Lu Han leans in closer, watching the red color of embarrassment crawl up the planes of Minseok’s perfect facial features. “Tell me Min, what’s your favorite-”

“Ew, get a room.” A voice interrupts from behind, startling the two. “I just finished my bagel and the last thing I need is to lose my breakfast watching my coworkers further their .”

Minseok sputters for a moment, before finding it easier to simply quickly unlock the door and escape into their work building. He slams the door behind him before the other two can do anything, and Lu Han lets out a rather disappointed sigh. “Morning, Jongdae.”

“Wow, really excited to see me, huh?” Jongdae nods to the floral arrangement still on the ground by their feet. “You going all out for Minseok today or something?”

“For the last time, these weren’t from me!” Lu Han huffs in frustration, leaning over to pick the bouquet up. “When I got here they were already-”

He freezes upon seeing the sender’s card, a cream-colored business card popping out of the arrangement and looking over the variety of flowers to stare right at them in an almost mocking letter. The only thing printed on the card as always, is the letter K.

Jongdae curses under his breath pulling out his cellphone and dialing Yifan’s number. “, Duizhang is not going to like this. I can already- Hello? Yifan, it’s me. You might want to finish your coffee before you get here today. It seems our elusive little friends have left us a gift.”

 He’s not here today.

Sehun’s softly drums his fingers against his thigh as his gaze travels across the lecture hall. Sociology is such a drear topic within itself. He still isn’t sure how he managed to allow Jongin to convince him to take this class. It doesn’t matter by now, not this late into the semester. And he doesn’t even really need to come to lectures. Attendance isn’t mandatory, all the notes are online, and the class is an easy A. But Sehun isn’t here to learn about sociology and all its finer points.

He’s here to watch Huang Zitao.

It didn’t take very long for Kyungsoo to work his computer magic and figure out who they were up against, or rather the individuals in the police’s elite EXO unit. Heaven forbid Kyungsoo let any of them, Junmyeon especially, go into another collision with the authorities without prior knowledge of exactly who they would be chased by. It was just their luck they had an intern on the team that went to his and Jongin’s university. A coincidence, really. And so, having been the one to miraculously have a class in common with intern Huang Zitao, Sehun was devastatingly the one chosen to keep an eye on him, at least while the boy remained on campus.

Jongin really ing owes him one.

It’s, well… a task, a chore for Sehun to deal with people. For gods’ sake, Jongin is the sociology major between the two, and more than enough outgoing for the both of them. Now dead people, that’s Sehun’s sort of crowd. Dead people don’t ask annoying questions. Dead people don’t have to wear a mask of artificial happiness around wherever they go. Dead people… make Sehun feel alive. A rather morbid way to come to terms with his own existence, Junmyeon has told him, but if it so satisfies him, then Junmyeon would not be the one to tell Sehun his logic was wrong. Junmyeon is a good man. Most people wouldn’t call a psychopathic serial killer and criminal mastermind a good man but Junmyeon has been good to Sehun, picked him off of the streets back in his pickpocket days and gave him a place to live, a place to eat, a place to learn.

He’s even given Sehun a purpose of sorts.

Cleaning up the aftermath of a murder isn’t necessarily a job that most people want, but Sehun enjoys the work, the peace and quiet company of Junmyeon’s latest victim, even the ever so slightest thrill that hums through his bones as he rushes to leave no traces behind and avoid being spotted all at once.

Baekhyun calls him strange. Sehun often retorts that the man who create bombs and destroys villages for a living can’t say much.

Nevertheless, Sehun is… thankful for Junmyeon, so when the elder requests of him to observe the police intern just to cover all their bases, Sehun can’t find it in him to say no. But Huang Zitao has long posed himself of no threat in particular to their work, at least for now, and Sehun has been relieved of his position for almost a week.

But Sehun still finds himself watching Huang Zitao, searching for him in the sea of students around campus.

It’s not so much as to follow orders anymore, but rather to satisfy his own curiosity. There’s something about Huang Zitao that’s piqued his interest, but Sehun can’t quite put his finger on what. It’s hard for him to understand, after all, he doesn’t usually deal with people. That’s Junmyeon and Jongin’s thing. Their ability to plaster a fake smile on their face and charm their way to a victim’s doom has always disgusted him to a certain degree, but Zitao is different from all the people he sees out in the world. Zitao is often alone like Sehun, preferring to keep to himself at least around campus. But Sehun has bumped into the other before, and the other carries himself in a genuine manner, one that would make it seem as though he could have many close friends at school if he truly wanted to. Perhaps it’s because Sehun doesn’t understand, or perhaps hasn’t studied enough of his sociology notes. But he’s determined.

Something about Huang Zitao intrigues Sehun, draws him to the Chinese, and he’s going to figure out what.

“Tao,” Yifan breathes in relief as their intern comes bustling into his office, urgency painted across his face, “Thanks for coming in on such short notice, I know you had to miss a class to get here.”

“No problem,” Zitao reassures him, “It’s not a very hard class, and I know this is more important.”

Yifan nods. “We had a floral arrangement sent to our building this morning, from K.”

Zitao’s eyes widen. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Yifan admits gruffly, “This could be a clue to another victim, or just a way to taunt us. Either way, I’m not taking risks. Jongdae’s checking the security tapes to figure out who or what company delivered the bouquet, and once we track it down, I’ll either take you or Yixing to go investigate.”

“Me or Yixing?”

“Yeah, uh,” Yifan massages his scalp, eyes closed. Knowing him, he must be majorly stressed right now. “Lu Han told me he was just about ready to let the rest of his team take over in their analysis and testing of all the samples collected from the, uh, car incident. He was planning on drafting a criminal profile for K. I was thinking if you wanted to help him or just watch him and his process, you could learn some new things. You probably haven’t gotten up to criminal psychology and profiling yet in your classes and there’s no better person to learn from outside of class than Lu.”

Jongdae’s words from the other day seem to echo in his mind, and Zitao decides to nod in agreement. “Yeah, that’d be really cool. I think I’ll try to help Lu Han profile if you don’t mind. I just hope I can be of any help to him.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Yifan gives him a rather tired smile, before calling out to Yixing who’s probably lounging around at his receptionist’s desk. “Yixing! You’re coming with me to investigate once Jongdae gets me an address.”

“Bull! What part of receptionist do you not get?!”

“Yixing, so help me god, I’m this close to blowing a fuse and we’re already low on numbers as it is trying to investigate multiple victims. If your doesn’t try and cooperate with me today, I’ll-”

“Alright, alright, I get it. Just let me know when, geez.”

Zitao holds back a chuckle at Yixing’s behavior. Even in times of stress, the other always seems to have no s to give. His thoughts are interrupted by the blaring ring of Yifan’s cellphone.

“I have a feeling that Jongdae’s not going to need to get me that address anymore,” Yifan groans, answering the call. “Wu speaking. Yes sir. Of course, sir. Yes sir, we’ll be there right away.”

He hangs up, and Zitao knows they’ve got another victim on their hands by the way Yifan slams his fist down onto his oak desk, tossing his head back in anger and frustration and roaring his usual “GODDAMNIT!”.

Maybe Zitao should have just gone to class.

An update at last! Thank you all for being so patient.

If you all enjoyed reading, please subscribe, upvote, and comment!

I was debating on whether or not to postpone the release of this chapter due to recent events, but I understand that some people read and look forward to reading these fics not just for fun, but also as a distraction to the pain. This fic isn't comedy centralled, but I hope simply an update will give someone a reason to smile even in the darkest of times. Please be safe, know you are loved, and that people care.

Rest In Peace Kim Jonghyun. You did so well and I hope that you know that and of your fans and their love for you. 

Have a wonderful Friday!

Less than three,

PalmerPie