All I seem to update is Symphony *Sighs* This one is more like a drabble, enjoy; and comment.

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Himchan tapped his cap several times before he sat down in front of the already seated man, his eyes half lidded as he kept his head slanted back on his seat, his thick lips slightly agape. Himchan certainly made notice of the clotting blood in the corners, but he knew it wasn’t time to be making note of the appearance of the possible drug dealer ahead of him. It wasn’t his intention to start caring about the boy who was seated idly on a seat of the chair in the police interrogation room, but he couldn’t help the fact that his throat turned a little dry at how beaten up the kid was. Poor thing.

Himchan couldn’t help but feel bad about how his work shirt, (the usual one he would wear behind the glass that put on display a variety of delicious pastries and bakery goods,) white with thin blue strips, had been crumpled into a mess, stains of muddy dirt all over his collar and his cheeks, too. Seems he had lost his apple green apron along the way, and his usual, gentle smile. His hair, as Himchan was used to, wasn’t combed and in place anymore. It was mess, and he was bleeding a little below his left ear. Himchan knew his little wounds were left untreated, and the first thing he wanted to do was to put up some gauze on his bleeding knee.

Putting that aside, Himchan cleared his throat. His deep voice wasn’t going to be coated and coaxed with worry, he assured himself. Work will be work.

 “There are two ways to finish this… interrogation.” Himchan started first. He earned a weak scoff for that. “Let me guess.” The younger spoke up, for the first time since he was taken under custody. “The easy way, and the hard way?” There was faint chuckle afterwards, but the boy didn’t move a muscle. His face went from a smirk to expressionless again, and his head still rested awkwardly on the chair, nose straight at the ceiling. Himchan felt a little bit more worried than he already was, because Jongup was a nice kid. He didn’t like where this incident would take such a young boy to, so he wanted the other to take this as lightly as possible.

Himchan made a side note to remind himself that this wasn’t specifically his first time talking to the boy. It wasn’t right he had grown fond of the pastry shop chef a little, buying his daily donut from the dainty little shop he owned, for ever since he started working as cop. It’s been two years, and that gave enough time for the two to learn a little pedigree about themselves. The pastry shop was a hand down from his family, Himchan learnt – and that was the day he saw the boy performing alongside a bunch of street performers he had to scoot way from the neighborhood. His passion was for dancing, apparently. It was cue for the cop to walk straight into the donut shop on his lunch break, spend time chatting around with the friendly young chef and run back to duty.

Himchan always saw Jongup as a hard working young boy, and he cannot exactly pin point why he felt brotherly for the boy. Maybe it was since and after he learnt that Jongup didn’t have parents supporting him. It was just another usual Wednesday to Himchan, all until he found his favorite pasty shop closed, suddenly without much notice. All that the front board said was ‘Closed for today, sorry for the inconvenience’. Himchan must have raised a brow at that, and as he turned to leave, he heard Jongup call him.

The boy was practically throwing his entire trunk outside the window of the upper floor of the shop, waving a hand at the cop. “Himchan-ssi, Give me a second.” Jongup had requested, and Himchan really didn’t see why to refuse. As he stood wondering why Jongup decided to take a break in the middle of a weekday, just to stay home, he found the owner opening him the front door. Jongup smiled and invited Himchan upstairs, and that was the first time Himchan ever stepped beneath the counter of the shop, to be lead upstairs to where Jongup lived. It was neat and cozy, and nothing special. Himchan wasn’t expecting much either. Jongup served Himchan with his usual donut, in a real ceramic dish instead of plastic one today, and with it was served a cup of iced coffee. He had learnt Himchan was an iced Americano addict somewhere when they had become friends, but he didn’t know how to make them, he admitted.

Himchan asked why the shop is closed today, and Jongup only shrugged, and kept himself silent for a long while. Himchan let the boy have his time, and ate his donut, and when he was finished, the boy dropped the bomb.

“It’s my parent’s death anniversary, today. It’s been two years...” Himchan didn’t really have to console the boy, but he unrevealed that his parents, along with an older brother, all died in a car crash. He didn’t though, and carried on with life, on his own, somehow. He said he didn’t want his relations involved, but he couldn’t managed school. He had laughed and admitted he never really wanted to school, so he carried on with his parents’ pastry shop.
He also said Himchan was his first customer ever.

Himchan sighed, looking at Jongup, all beaten up ahead of him. He had to admit that he wanted to help the boy.

“Look; Jongup, I find it ridiculous that you’ve been taken under custody. The drugs are already confirmed to have been brought over by a gang, and seriously I just want to help you to get back to your pastry shop.” Himchan spoke again, thinking of a different approach. “Yukwou sold it to somebody in the town and we’re already hunting him down.”

Jongup opened his eyes afterwards and lifted his head, meeting his thin, strangely sharp eyes with Himchans doe ones. “That’s good.” He replied, simply.

Himchan felt odd about how the boy didn’t give him his usual smile never made his way to his lips, and he had a hunch he couldn’t confirm, telling his things were going to be different about the boy here afterwards. Himchan sighed, taking that Jongup probably meant to go ahead and ask him the questions.

“Your fingerprints were on the bag they carried the drugs in, I think you know, already.” Himchan said, and Jongup nodded. “Yeah.” “Why?” Himchan asked. Jongup was silent for a long while, and Himchan thought he better let the boy take his time, as he knew the younger was a little slow in the head, personally.

“I carried it, from Yukwous’ to my shop.”

“What?” Himchans’ mind was asking the question in an auto mode, because that’s a statement that put out the puzzle together. It was Jongup who carried the drugs.

“I’m the one he sold it to.”

That settled it all.