At first,

Kiha wasn't expecting anything. 

Judging from his rather vibrant voice which echoed with every scream,

she was so sure that he could borderline a female with a low voice.

She was so, so wrong. 

The figure which emerged from behind the door had unkept cold, ice blue hair. He was probably around ten to fifteen centimetres taller than Kiha herself, when she estimated, and wore nothing but a white tanktop and what seemed to look like boxers--

well,

from whatever knowledge Kiha has on undergarments anyway.

With monolids; a soft nose; thin lips; and facial features that would kill hearts in a heartbeat, Kiha can only blink at his appearance. 

The other party searched Kiha up and down,

rather amused with her outfit.

"That's a really short dress," was his very first comment.

Kiha assessed her own self and gulped down the anxieties which were building up. She just realised how torn of a state she was in. It was nothing more than a quick glance--

but she knew she didn't look fine at all.

Well,

not in her dictionary anyways.

"So where's Hosook?" Came the question.

Kiha would, of course, like to answer that. But she had very limited knowledge on who Hosook is. The most she can dig out was that Miok wasn't really Miok in the past. She must have been Hosook. 

It was a question which was worth a shot.

"Is Hosook perhaps known as Miok?"

There was furrowed eyebrows, an eye contact game, and more silence. The male scratches the side of his chin, where he evidently needed to shave, before shaking his head.

"Not sure who Miok is. I'm only acquainted to Hosook." He paused. "But where is she? Why after all these years?" And then, he gave Kiha a good, sturdy look.

"And why you?"

Kiha wanted to ask the same thing.

She feels herself gulping,

but this time,

was so dry, she feels her tongue being slightly stuck to her very own palate. 

Kiha would blink and blink again, trying to get rid of the drowsiness which she does not correlate to simply being sleepy. It felt heavier and much more nauseating than the simple need. She brought up a heavy hand onto her temple and attempted to drown the noticeable thumping which kept her doubling the image of the person in front of her.

She felt tears building up at the corners of her eyes.

It felt heavy,

nauseating,

and so, 

so,

sick.

Not knowing what else to do in the current situation, Kiha feels her legs falling on her as she made a physical snap to the ground without the slightest ability to embrace herself from the fall. 

She hears calls which sounded like distant dreams.

And then,

as if someone had switched the sun off,

it all faded to black.

---

Chai wasn't pleased.

Not only did some weird chick had been banging on his doorbell non-stop like a rather drunken hazard, she had the audacity to faint on him. 

Now he has more things to do.

And Chai was by no means a morning person.

---

Carrying an unconscious person was a rather arduous task at hand. 

And being the efficient person Chai was,

he kicked the first door he saw.

(Which was bizarrely an odd choice.

It was the last door in the hall.)

He affirmed the fact that the owner was currently not present in the room and hauled over his rather heavy baggage onto the bed. 

Twisting his sore shoulders, Chai examined the room and scoffed. 

"It looks like a funeral in here," he commented.

True to his words,

the room was all-black.

---

The light drowns last night's pain in agony. It was a murder free of charge and legality which won only the fairest beasts over. The curse had spread like gossips which tainted white flowers, struggling to grow on top of dainty roads. The horizon seeks revenge in light of what was hidden. The red stain spills down the waterfall of truth,

awaiting to be discovered.

---

The road thins out as he diverged into the countryside of town. The high skyscrapers and busy stoplights turn to ash as he watched the scenery turn to green once again. There were paddocks, though monochromatic, from his point of view. His choice of vechile consisted of two wheels and a rather slender, jet-black form. 

It twinkled under the giggles of sunlight and washed out the surrounding's vibrance.

His attire flew under the weight of the winds and wavered in a slow dance. 

Last night had been a long one. That was all he knew. If only back to back missions were a tad more lenient to him, it might be more possible to live and sleep like the average person. It was close to being the thirty-sixth hour of him being awake-- and so far, he's purely relying on his reserve of concentration and a scarce amount of adrenaline. To him, the roaring winds were a blessing in disguise. 

He took a sharp inhale as he felt himself shutting down. 

What he needed right now was a vibrant glass of coffee,

along with a nice, long bath.

---

The hideout had another entrance. 

It wasn't marked by any kind of door or signs alike. 

18B was only a diversion. 

It was a 1LDK in diguise.

When you enter the rather barren room, there is only a single bed, a couch, and a few other minor accessories to camouflage the true structures underneath. In order to get access to the first layer of the actual residence, you have to know where to search for the key in between the messy facade. After the ground is removed, there are some stairs which leads you deeper into the lair. 

It has a maze after that,