Once outside, Taemin’s serious face quickly fades away and his thin lips widen into a large grin.

“Taemin reporting for duty,” he smiles, raising two fingers to his forehead.

“Taemin you’re already here , you don’t need to announce anything,” Jjong says, not looking up from searching his vest for the car keys.

“Jesus I know. It just adds to the mood, alright? You guys aren’t even fun anymore. All you ever do is argue and glare at each other because of all your dumb love problems. Here’s an idea: Why don’t you guys speak up about your feelings. Like damn,” Taemin scratches a finger nail onto the wall absentmindedly, tracing spirals.

“Hey I haven’t had any love problems since high school, just saying,” Jjong murmurs as he slides the key into the lock of his car.

 

“Oh please, you know I wasn’t talking about you,” Taemin smirks, eyeing ___, Minho and Onew leaning against the outside wall of headquarters, looking much more tense than usual.

 

“Taemin get in the damn car and stop trying to be a psychiatrist,” Jjong groans, gesturing an arm in the direction of the passenger seat.

The yellow light of the street lamp shines on Taemin’s thin face as he slips in, “I was shooting more for a love doctor feel, but you know, I’ll take it.” And with that, Jjong slams Taemin’s door shut, leaving the light to shine down onto the black window.

 

“Onew; back seat,” Jjong orders as he slips into his own driver’s seat; tugging the door shut.

“I know what to do.”

Onew turns one last time to Minho and ___ leaning against the wall.

“___, tighten your vest a bit more. It looks a little loose,” He mutters, genuinely concerned, then faces her partner, “kinda like Minho’s pants cause his ’s so small.”

 

___’s eyes widen, and her hand goes to to stifle her laughter. Minho shoves her in the side and narrows his eyes in Onew’s direction.

“Onew. I have two guns and four knives on me; I would shut the up if I were you.”

 

“Whatever min-hoebag.”

 

Minho takes a step forward, reaching into his vest for the nearest weapon, but ____  immediately grabs his elbow. Onew’s eyes trail to her hand on him and his stomach drops.

His eyes meet ___’s, and then, slowly, Minho’s.

“Onew just leave,” ___ whispers, sounding exhausted while looking down at the street. Her eyes are suddenly very fascinated with the yellow stripe trailing far away from their awkward encounter.

 

Onew simply stares at the tip of her hair spilling across Minho’s shoulder; the side of his lip wavering in anger and jealously, before inclining his head and hurrying over to the car.

The door slams behind him.

Jonghyun slowly turns from the drivers’ seat, “Onew, you must know that-”

“I know,” Onew sighs.

Taemin reaches for one of his brother’s fingers, and Onew accepts his hand and squeezes.

 

For a long time, Jonghyun had honestly just been relieved that lonely Minho had found a companion; so he didn’t complain much then.The days when Minho never spoke and always appeared depressed were times Jonghyun would like to forget about. A Man as talented and handsome as Minho should never be unhappy, Jonghyun used to think to himself. And to be honest, he still thought about even now. But the same went for Onew. He of course had Taemin to keep him sane and stable, but although siblings are comforting, they don’t always supply you with what you need. Both Onew and Minho had a lot of problems, and he didn’t want either of them stressing. Especially at work.

 

____ and Minho had begun to whisper to each other, bringing one another closer and laughing softly into each other’s ears. The two really were beautiful together, all in black, standing just like that. They almost blended into one person. But maybe when two people were similar enough, it made things difficult. Also a third party member taking an interest in one of them made the situation confusing as well.

Jonghyun rubs the back of his neck, deciding to leave his thoughts alone for now. It never did good to dwell too long on other’s problems; those were for them to stop waiting around for and face themselves.

 

The rest of the dark ride to the fish market is uneventful. Jjong sinks back into other parts of his mind to arrange the confusing thoughts he’d been having earlier.

Kim Hyori, the younger sister of the criminal, had definitely looked familiar. Kim Kibum, the criminal, had looked weirdly familiar as well, although much  more blurred in Jjong’s mind than his sister was.The memories attached to Hyori were simple and clear; he could see the young girl laughing, sipping moon white milk, asking him softly where the bathroom was; nothing serious at all. She must have been my sister’s friend, or maybe just an acquaintance if that’s all I can remember.

The memories he had of Key weren’t really memories at all. All his mind brought him were small snippets of Key in his school uniform, his face tilted downwards, staring at the ground, or peering behind a corner, then quickly turning away after realizing he’d come the wrong way. Jonghyun had been well liked in high school, but he had had many fellow students. It would be impossible to recall the hundreds of faces he’d once gone to school with, especially if they weren’t any of the girls he’d dated or his friends on the soccer team. Even those faces were a bit fuzzy. Jonghyun hadn’t kept in touch with anyone after graduation; he had been very focussed on getting a job at the S.C.I. It had paid off, eventually, but now he was left with no company but the members that saw him as nothing but a leader. Key’s lonely face stuck in his mind clearly, separate from all the blurred and jumbled pieces. Key.

 

The warm car presses into all of the member’s skin and causes them to feel a bit drowsy after the forty minute drive. When they finally come to a stop, Taemin is almost asleep.

 

“We’re here,” Whispers Jonghyun, pulling to a stop. It’s silent so far out from the city.

 

They all push open the polished black doors in a sleepy synchronization, snapping on their belt-loop flashlights.

Onew glances upwards, smiling at the moon.

“It’s nice to be outside the city. The fresh smell of no douchebags.”

“Oh my god,” Taemin chokes.

Jonghyun comes to stand beside the Lee brothers.

“Onew, you’re the douchiest on the team, so I wouldn’t be talking.”

The three loiter in front of a looming black gate. Small tents and stands can be seen on the other side.

Onew clicks his tongue, “There’s a difference between douchy and angry.”

Taemin’s eyes trail off to the ocean in the distance. It recedes and returns. Recedes and returns.

“But if you’re constantly angry and don’t try to help yourself out of that negativity, don’t you eventually become a douche?” Taemin laughs then, returning his gaze to his fellow members,  “I could write a book. The Stages of Becoming a Basic Douche: dedicated to my brother, the most basic-”

Onew kicks Taemin softly in the leg.

“I guess that has some truth to it, but I don’t think I’ve made it that far into the stages.”

Jonghyun stands to the side, his mouth slightly askew in curiosity. The brothers turn to stare at him.

“What?” They ask in unison.

“I’m just thinking of all the people I used to know that went from the first to last stage in a matter of weeks over something dumb involving school.”

Onew chuckles; his feet kick up a swirling mixture of sand and dirt as he makes his way to the lock code inputer.

“School tends to do that to teenagers, doesn’t it Tae? All of those hormonal, self conscious, confused bastards roaming around and trying to find a purpose.”

“ you I’m twenty. I’m not a teenager anymore,” Taemin answers while shoving his hands into his dark jacket, “But yeah, what a weird time,” Taemin shivers in the beachy air as he goes to stand by a lock-engrossed Onew, “High school.”

High school. In Jonghyun’s mind a panicked looking Key turns another corner in the hallway. High school. Key disappears. But where was that boy now? Far from here, or lurking around? Jonghyun wanted to know.

“Do you think there are any other securities set up?” Jjong questions, glancing over at Onew.

“Nah, fish markets are pretty casual. One simple number lock should do it. The type of people who work at fish markets aren’t at all concerned about much aside from vandalism from students, so we have nothing to worry about.”

Jjong nods, “ Makes sense,” Onew continues to click around, holding a smooth red button down for about thirty seconds at one point, causing the tall gate to unclick and slowly swing open.

“Open sesame to the first crime scene fellas,” Onew announces, massaging his right hand from all of the holding and clicking.

 

Taemin grows silent as he inspects the scene before him, taking it all in.

 

Ten permanent stands, varying within colors of advertisement, line each side. A temporary tent stands in the far back, the white fabric blowing in the misty air. With the market being outside of the city, only the sound of the ocean and wind could be heard above their breathing. The beeping, exchanges, shadows, soda cans, restlessness of the city had all ceased. The moonlight and swinging ocean had taken their place.

Taemin’s eyes scan the area until they land on the familiar yellow caution tape. His hands shake with excitement as he jogs towards the scene. He slows about a ten meters from the tape, taking a deep breath, and letting all of his features relax.

 

Byung hee would have been right here, walking, her hair swinging,thinking it was just a normal night-

The woman’s body lay on the concrete ground, face down.

“Jjong!” Taemin whispers loudly.

 

A small pool of blood trails from her purpling lips kissing the ground. Taemin calculates that she would have been lying there for a little over seven hours, rotting away.Taemin's mind clouded over with questions. The police had apparently only been able to set up the caution tape before coming face to face with Key.

 

Kibum had chased them off, somehow. They hadn’t even had time to transport the body to quarters, where Taemin usually went to check the wounds after inspecting the scene.

 

Taemin silently s a pocket in his vest and withdraws a pair of rubber gloves and swiftly tugs them on.

Jonghyun finally comes running, ducking under the tarp hanging over the stand.

“What, did you see Key?”

“No...”

 

Jonghyun suddenly spots the body of the women, his eyes widening in shock.

 

“. So the police didn’t even have time to move the body then? Key chased them off that quickly? How does someone murder people in different locations so quickly then still manage to keep police out of the separate areas?”

 

Onew hurries in behind them, reacting just as Jjong had.

 

“What the hell. ”

 

The three stand baffled, eyeing the body.

 

Jjong is the first to compose himself, clearing his throat, he says authoritatively to the others, “I’ll have to keep watch then. Key could be anywhere, and I don’t want you two getting into a fight with him before ___ and Minho even get here.”

 

Onew nods slowly, unable to take his eyes off of the body.

“ I- I’ll check all of the cameras. Maybe he wasn’t the only one doing the killing? But the boss said-”

“That the police only reported a single person,” Taemin finishes.

Jjong rubs the back of his neck, “I really don’t know. Just report back to me the wounds found on the body and what shows up on the tape. Being around the dead makes me feel like I’m waiting for it to move or something. I’ll be outside somewhere, keeping watch.”

Taemin had already taken out his supplies and was crouching before the body.

“Sounds good.”

Onew nods along.

Now I just have to make sure Kibum doesn’t touch them, Jonghyun thinks to himself as he exits the scene, all of his senses on high alert.

 

☽ ☾

 

The drive to the main weapon warehouse is a long one.

 

There is something easier about pretending in front of those around you. The concept of pretending something is true, that everything is okay, is almost a numb comfort in the presence of others. But once you are placed alone, in a car, with the very thing that is troubling you, it gets difficult to keep your feet from shaking, your mouth from trembling, your eyes from blinking in panic. Because the truth is you are not as strong as you think when you’re alone. There is no one to act brave for, and no one to pretend for. The only thing left sitting in the car is you and  that empty shell of fear and uncertainty.

 

Things get difficult when there is no one to pretend for. You begin to pretend that you’re unaware of the fear sitting beside you; that nothing is really there at all but you and the moon.

It isn’t true though; it never is.

 

Minho’s hands steadily grip the steering wheel; eyes on the endless back road ahead of him and ___.

 

“Minho, I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” ____ says without making eye contact with him. Her fingers anxiously tap her right knee.

 

“What is it?”

 

The road curves and Minho focusses even more on driving. Tall trees now envelope them.

Minho can sense how nervous she is. But why? ___ is usually very calm and collected; especially around him. Well not lately. Could it be the case? Not likely. It took a lot to scare her.

 

“It’s just, last night I was falling asleep. Except I couldn’t, you know? It was just one of those nights where a lot of little things were just weighing on me and they all creeped up on me. And I suddenly felt like hundreds of bugs were crawling around in my shirt, but I couldn’t get them out.”

 

Minho listens without saying a word, knowing she is not finished. He knows of nights like this. In fact, he’d been feeling similarly just last night too.

 

“And I, I just felt really unhappy and lonely and panicked, and all I could think about was calling you, because you always know how to calm me down.”

 

Minho suddenly interjects, It must be Onew. “So why didn’t you? You know I wouldn’t care if you showed up at my apartment at three in the morning, let alone call me. We’re both light sleepers.”

 

What is she trying to say?

 

___ tries to reassure herself that what she is trying to say is not strange at all. Just say it ____dammit.

She takes a deep breath. This is Minho, he always understands her.

“I just had this thought, that, why should I have to call you? Why should I have to get up and go to a separate building just because I want to see you? Why aren’t we just in one place? Then I wouldn’t have to go to all this trouble whenever we’re trying to work on a case together or one of us is missing our family,” she squeezes her own leg out of nervousness.

 

“Why aren’t we just together.”

 

Minho suddenly jerks his head over to look at her, but the steering wheel goes the opposite direction. The car swerves violently to the left, and a loud clunk resonates through the air.

 

___ immediately grabs the steering wheel and turns it to the right until the car is safely back in the right lane. Thankfully, there are no other cars on this back road.

 

She smacks Minho in the head.

 

“ Minho, pay attention to the road!”

I must’ve caught him off guard. God I’m so dumb. Why’d I bring this up in the middle of a case. He knows he knows.

 

Minho regains his breath, and steadies himself. He glances over at her, taking in the face he’s grown so used to. He has always found ___ beautiful, but whenever anything aside from work concerning her began to surface, he quickly choked it back down. ___ seemed to only be able to fall in love with her work, so Minho tried to do the same. Not to mention what would happen to Onew.

 

___ suddenly meets his eyes.

What is he thinking?

 

Minho jerks his head back to the road.

 

“Minho.”

 

He doesn’t respond.

 

“I was just trying to say that I think it might be easier if we lived together,” ___ says as calmly as she can muster, “Like Taemin and O-onew do.”

 

Onew.

“Could you turn the radio on? This drive is so quiet it’s making me crazy,” Minho does his best to keep his voice from shaking.

Can’t he just give me a straight answer?

___ sighs impatiently and flips the radio onto a random station. She knows he’s upset, but why? He never gets angry with me. I’m the one that had to struggle with bringing it up in the first place. I’m tired of waiting.

“Minho.”

He doesn’t answer.

 

“Minho,Onew can’t just depend on me to be happy. That’s not my problem.”

 

Minho suddenly pulls the car to a halt, tucking the car into a section off of the road and shutting the radio off so he can speak to her properly and not just from his peripheral vision.

 

“Look. I. I’ve just seen people lean on others too much before. And I know it’s not healthy, and I know it’s not really your problem. But. ___. You and I both know that guy is plenty unstable already. I know I can act like a real around him, but if I didn’t, I think he’d know how sorry I feel for him, you know? And I think that would just send him over the edge knowing that’s how I feel about him.”

___ stares at him for a second in utter disbelief. He’s too good of a person to ever feel different about me. Well at least while someone else does. Or maybe I’m just too intense around him and he’s finally gotten tired of it, she thinks to herself, upset. She tries to brush off her disappointment as quickly as she can.

Does she actually think of me that way, or is she just trying to shake off Onew? Is this just a partner thing or..? If she really thinks moving in with me would shake Onew’s feelings off for good, then has she not thought about how crushed he would be?

___ had always been independent. She had always rolled her eyes at things that bugged her, quickly found solutions to whatever was weighing her down, then moved forward without looking back. The bottom line was that she didn’t take ; whether it was having to move to another country because her mom got deported, or a coworker distracting her with his feelings. She didn’t do well with others. Most of the time. Her independence had always scared people off; intimidated them.

Well, until she met Minho, that is.

A tense moment of the two yelling in their minds over and over again of how the other doesn’t think of them the way they wish they would settles messily, then passes. The screaming in their minds cannot be heard aloud.

 

“Why do we ever bother with the main weapon warehouse anyway,” ___ finally sighs out loud, feeling as if the trip was pointless.

 

Minho sighs in frustration at his previous thoughts and releases his tense grip on the handle. They weren’t moving anyway. The moment has passed, and it’s begun to rain.

 

“I honestly don’t know. It’s not like any weapons in there are that much better than what we keep stored at our apartments.”

 

“Maybe it’s just the idea of it then.”

 

Minho raises an eyebrow in question, and she doesn’t even have to turn to look at him to feel his question in the air.

 

“Well, it’s like,” She begins, “It’s like in the kid shows. Like Like Mike or Space Jam. Oh god I’m saying ‘like’ a lot,”  ___ groans, causing Minho to burst into laughter.

 

“Keep going, I want to see you try to explain how kid basketball movies relate to our lives.”

 

___ sets her head back against her seat and closes her eyes, feeling calmer about their topic shift,“Okay, well they both have something that they think makes them perform better, right? The damn shoes or the juice.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

“And when they drink that juice, or slip on those shoes, suddenly it’s magic. And they can do whatever the hell they want.”

 

“Or so they think so.”

 

Her eyes flutter open to look over at him, “ Yes! Yes that’s just it Minho. It’s that feeling.”

 

Minho turns for a second to take in ___’s face; and he grins, “You’re getting really worked up about this aren’t you?”

 

She grins back at him, and it’s that same smile that only Minho has ever laid eyes on. And all he can help but think is God she’s so cute. Before realizing that if he ever said that aloud, she would probably kick his . Or at least give him a look that would immediately make him regret his words. Well I mean who the hell would ever call ___  cute. She’s just so much more than that. She could call storms to her command, take on two men twice her size, then shoot someone in the head and not even glance back at the bloody mess she made. ___ was a ing goddess.

 

“But it’s that feeling,” she starts again, pulling Minho out of his wishful thoughts.

“It’s that feeling. The feeling that gets you off your to go play that basketball game. It’s that feeling that gets you onto the court and then you just ing slay. All because you drank that damn juice or put those damn shoes you thought had powers on. But neither of them did. They really didn’t. It’s just a bottle of juice. It’s just a pair of shoes.”

 

“So confidence basically.”

 

____ her head, “ I think...confidence is a really weird thing.”

 

Minho snorts, leaning his head onto his own seat and pulling his knees up.

 

“What Minho? It really is. Don’t ing laugh at me.”

 

“No it’s just not what I expected you to say, I guess? But I definitely know what you mean. Those things with nothing magic whatsoever about them, got them into that headspace that somehow; the world they lived in was magic. Even if it was just for a moment. Because just for a second they could believe that they had something special in their hands that would help them in someway. The juice and the shoes built them up to the point where it physically made them perform better. Even though the ‘magic’ or whatever the hell that feeling is was all happening mentally.”

 

___ smiles widely at him, nodding, before pulling her hood up over her head and leaning back against the seat for the second time, more comfortably this time, “Yeah. It’s that feeling. And I think The Boss thinks having a warehouse outside of headquarters where all of the fancy weapons are stored, will put us into a different headspace where we think taking on killers is nothing but another job.”

 

The two stare at their hands resting in their laps, fully digesting the conversation.

It’s pitch black outside of the car, aside from the moonlight. The rain blurs everything in front of them, and __ silently lifts her head to watch the harsh drops of water try to battle their way inside to their small and warm enclosure.

 

She hadn’t noticed before, but it was a full moon tonight. Her Mom used to tell her stories of moon faeries coming out on nights of a full moon to dance. They’d appear early on in the night, drinking honey out of acorns and gorging themselves on berries. Once they were full, they would dance and dance and dance until the the sun was brighter than the moon. Then the moon faeries would silently disappear into the trees again and rest until the next full moon.

 

“You're thinking about your mom, aren’t you?” Minho whispers. Aside from the miscommunication earlier, they almost always knew what the other was thinking about.

 

“Mhm,” ___ whispers sadly.

 

He doesn’t push her to say any more; he knows she only likes to talk about her family on rare occasions. Just as he does.

 

“We should keep going then. I don’t want the others to have to take on Kibum by themselves.”

 

Minho begins to restart the engine, and he can hear ___ laying her head against her window to get a better view of the sky through the rain. He has the sudden urge to take her hand, and rub his thumb across the back of it until she forgets all about her family for a moment. He’s done things like that before, of course. Minho and ___ have always been inseparable, it was only lately that a strange wall of words neither of them had the courage to say had risen up between them.

They both did their best to act as they usually would, but on the days when work went late and they had to be together longer than a few hours, a deep and aching pounding would thump in their chests. They would excuse themselves from the room until they could compose themselves once again. Although there was no room to escape to out in the woods.

 

This unhealthy routine had been going on for about a month now.

 

But neither of them had the slightest idea how to deal with it. The only person the other wanted to comfort them, was the exact thing that was troubling them. It was sickening to them because they were the type who solved the problems, not the ones who caused them.

 

“Minho,”

He jumps a little in his seat at the sound of her voice.

“What?”

“Why aren’t we moving?”

Minho hadn’t realized until then that the car was in fact, not even on.

“Oh, uh,” He runs his hand through his hair for a second before turning the key, for real this time.

 

A disgruntled whirring sound whines from the engine.

They both furrow their eyebrows.

“Let me try,” ___ says, leaning over Minho. Her stomach tightens a bit as her side leans against his.  ___ Jesus Christ this is Minho. Get a hold of yourself.

 

She didn’t have any idea that Minho had suddenly gone tense, just as she had, at their contact.

 

___ pulls the key from the ignition before shoving it back in quickly; turning it just as Minho had.

 

The whirring sound returns; sounding like an injured animal crying out.

A sudden memory of earlier when Minho and her had been fighting and he had lost control of the wheel and lightly hit something bursts into both their minds.

They immediately turn to look at each other.

“We hit something,” They whisper in unison, reality sinking into their anxious skin.

 

A/N:

Hiii. So this is my first author's note?? I've been writing this story slowly, and for a very long time. It's so weird I finally put it up . ehhh. I'm updating this friday night instead of saturday cause im gonna go hiking tomorrow yay!! I feel SO SO WEIRD BUT I GOTTA GET OVER IT OKAY WHEWWW 1 2 3 STOPPP. aNYWAY, FOR ANYONE READING THIS, the first chapter was kinda cheesy and boring, ik ik,but it's all setting up for better things, i promise. okay I'll leave now BUT KEY IS GONNA BE INTRODUCED NEXT CHAPTER WEEE OKAY BYE ILY