Key recognizes Jonghyun the second he glances down from the rooftop.

 

He’d been waiting for him.

 

Of course, he’d hacked into the S.C.I files on “his” case, and found Jjong had been assigned a role, but he couldn’t help but intake a short burst of breath at seeing him in the flesh.

 

It’d been about six years? Maybe five. Key couldn’t recall. He didn’t particularly care, either. What he did care about, was that even after all of these years, the sight of Jonghyun still made him nervous. Or maybe excited. Or maybe both.

 

His hands were shaking for crying out loud, and he wasn’t even sure why.

 

Key could recall his highschool days extremely well, but they weren’t memories he was very fond of. They all fell into step, one horrible memory after the other, ticking off like flashbacks with a whip each and every time.

 

He could remember waking up in the middle of the night and having to calm his mother down from her nightmares, mostly night terrors that started from real occurrences with Key’s father.

His father on angry nights.

Waking up in the morning and changing Hyori’s bandages, because of his father. Then helping her get into her uniform, tugging stockings onto her small legs to conceal the bruises, then cook breakfast in their small roof top house.

Going to school and both doing their best to conceal what was actually going on inside of the Kim household.

His worn out backpack that was too loose on his skinny shoulders, heavy with all of the textbooks he’d spend hours studying so his father wouldn’t touch him.

Walking the dark halls and catching a glimpse of Jjong, then immediately turning the other way, clenching his fists at how Jonghyun's loud laugh filled up the hallways and made his mind buzz.

 

Feeling guilty that there was someone who took his mind off of his mother and sister.

 

The things that happened to Key as he was growing up were occurrences that still weighed on his shoulders, much rougher than his worn out backpack. Secrets that his father and sister had taken to their graves.

His mother was technically still alive, but to Key, she had passed on a long, long time ago. When someone reaches the point where not a single of the characteristics they originally carried with them that once thrived like honey in the summertime; not their smile, thoughts, quirks, favorite books, thoughts on their mind first thing in the morning...anything, nothing, just nothing remains, Key’s mind shifts.

 

The moment not a single one of those things can be seen anymore, that is when someone is dead to Kibum, and that was the case with his mother. He could no longer see a single trace of who she once was any longer.

 

Key sighs. The heavy rain didn’t bug him all that much, but when a rain of memories crept up on him, he grew angry and regretful.

 

But at the moment, an old schoolmate stood underneath Key, and it pissed him off that Jonghyun made him nervous for no apparent reason during his awkward teenage years, and even now.

 

It amused him in a way as well.

 

Key’s hand begins to run over the surface of his right eyebrow scar; an anxious habit.

He wasn’t too far above Jjong for him to notice him, but the night too dark, the rain too thick. Not to mention how loud the ocean was.

 

Below Key, Jonghyun’s outline could be clearly seen; his wet hair now a bright silvery white color, opposed to the natural black he used to sport. Jonghyun had never been one of those kids who was constantly dying their hair.

 

I wonder what made him dye it now.

 

He was fascinating to Key. He really was. Especially that trademark jawline that only seemed to have grown sharper. Damn.

 

Key lay on his stomach, chin resting in one of his hands, slowly shaking his head from side to side. He was calm, despite being soaked. It was pretty entertaining to just stare at how determined Jonghyun appeared to find the criminal, even though who he seeked was resting right above him.

 

___ and Choi Minho would have spotted him in a second, according to the files on them Key had looked over.

Oblivious Jonghyun stood to attention, appearing to be ready at any moment to throw a punch.

 

Key grins widely. Maybe he should drop a note? Or just drop down himself? The possibilities were endless. Although he didn’t have any paper.

 

Key sighs again. I guess I’ll just have to call down to him. He’s about to carry out with his lame plan, when suddenly an idea comes to mind, and he covers his mouth, as to not laugh aloud and give himself away.

 

A thin sheet of metal sits a few feet away.

 

Key quietly slides across the water on the roof top. Well, as quiet as you can be in a rain storm. He was more concerned with making a sudden noise and getting Jjong’s attention, rather than making constant noise that would just blend in with the sound of the rain.

 

He slides back to the edge of the roof and stands; holding the sheet of metal directly above Jjong’s head. The pattering against the metal as it blocks the rain over Jjong's head is quieter than expected.

The ocean really is loud.

 

Jjong slowly releases his arms from the tight cross they had been in, confusion clear on his face.

 

The rain..?

 

After a moment, he glances up.

 

Key’s smirking face is clear against the backdrop of the large full moon, despite the rain. His dark hair plastered against his smooth skin, his opaque eyes glinting in amusement.

Kibum.

 

Jonghyun immediately turns sideways, making himself a smaller target, and aims his gun upwards, directly at Key.

 

But at the same moment, Key lets go of the metal sheet.

 

A muffled smack sends Jjong tumbling, and Key takes his moment of confusion to jump from the roof.

 

He effortlessly kicks Jjong’s gun from his hand and places it in his own hand, now firmly setting his right foot onto Jjong’s chest and aiming Jjong’s own gun at him. Key’s grin never left, and now all Jonghyun can do is stare up at him while he struggles to stand.

Key resets the gun, a loud clicking, and lowers it even closer to Jjong. The cold night air seems to be choking him.

 

“I’d listen up if I were you. And don’t try to call for tweedle dee and tweedle dum, it won’t do you any good,” Key says, jerking his head back towards the stands where Taemin and Onew reside. They're too far away to have heard the racket.

 

Jjong’s eyes blink, trying to block the rain from getting inside. He eventually decides to just leave them closed.

“What?” Jonghyun sighs angrily. It all happened so fast. I can’t even look up at him because of this damn rain. Where the hell are Minho and ___? They never take this long.

 

“Stand up pretty boy. We’re going for a walk." Pretty boy?

 

Jonghyun curses himself for only bringing one gun and just assuming Minho and ___ would be beside him to face Key. He reluctantly gets to his feet, wiping his eyes free of rain, ignoring the slight sting in his elbows from the fall.

 

Once standing, it is plain to see that Key stands about three or four  inches taller, although much slimmer in build. They stare at each other for a moment, eyeing one another. One short with white hair, tanned and glaring. The other tall, pale, with dark hair and eyes, smirking.

 

Did I really go to school with this guy? Or are my memories just muddled? Jjong thinks.

“Well, are you going to walk or not?Go,” Key says, jerking his head to his right, away from the market stands, all while keeping the gun trained on Jjong.

 

Jonghyun is more angry than shocked as he trudges towards the wet sand about a hundred meters away, ducking under a wire fence along the way. He can’t stop thinking about Onew and Taemin alone, inspecting the scene. Did Key have other people ready to shoot at them if he tried to run? It made him want to scream, but he’d have to obey Key. At least until he could find an opening to grab his gun back. Jonghyun shoots a glare over his shoulder in Key’s direction.

 

Key blows him a one handed kiss, the gun still trained on him.

Jonghyun makes a sound of disgust. “Why don’t you just shoot me? I hate waiting for something to just happen.”

Key throws his head back and laughs loudly, but it sounds warped so near to the ocean. Almost as if the sound was soaking right into the water.

“I’m like that too. But isn’t there a certain value of fun in the wait?” The dark sand around them seems to be endless.

Key abruptly stops and motions for Jjong to sit on a slippery rock in front of them.

 

“Sit .”

Jonghyun stops walking and does as he’s told, rolling his large eyes as he sits.

Key remains standing, only now he presses the gun into Jjong’s sopping hair, causing a bit of his dark roots to be exposed.

Jonghyun doesn’t even flinch. He knows exactly how that gun feels when fired.

“Why did you dye your hair? It was so pretty black,” Key mutters, lifting Jjong’s hair even more with his free hand, running his fingers through it. How would he know what I used to look like?

Jjong gives in and attempts to shake Key off, but Key simply places the gun between Jjong’s eyebrows now and makes a soft tsk tsk.

Jonghyun grunts and raises his hands to show he’ll stop. This guy really has no morals does he? Jonghyun thinks. Who just plays with a complete stranger’s hair? Did we really know each other in high school?

The salty smell of the ocean mixed with the heavy rain envelopes them, making them both shiver suddenly.

“Hey. Are you going to answer or not?” Key asks.

“Will you shoot if I don’t?”

 

Key simply shrugs, then moves the head of the gun back to the side of Jjong's head.

“Depends on how good your answer is, to be honest. Scooch over, my legs are tired.”

Jjong stares at Key in disbelief as he actually settles down beside him.

 

What kind of criminal just sits down and has a chat with his enemy?

 

“Yo pretty boy, I’m waiting. Entertain me so I don’t think about how bad of a cold I’m going to have in the morning.” A part of Key shakes from the rush and nervousness that overcomes him every time he mutters pretty boy.

Jonghyun, unaware, can’t resist arguing with him, “You can’t actually get a cold by just sitting out in cold weather. It weakens your immune system, sure, but it can’t give you a virus.”

Key’s eyes widen, and his mouth curves in amusement.

 

Then he laughs so hard that it sounds to Jjong as if he’s choking. The roaring ocean howls along with him.

“You’re such a smart ...I can’t? I really can’t get sick?” Key finally regains his breath and sets his free hand down on his knee to steady himself.

“You know, It would be nice to have someone like you to just follow me around and bring me flowers and help me with arguments. Like a little assistant or something,” Key says thoughtfully.

Jjong scoffs, “Why would you need me to bring you flowers?”

Key looks at him as if the answer is ridiculously clear.

“Haven’t you ever heard that quote ‘flowers are the earth laughing’?”

Jjong raises an eyebrow, “ It’s: ‘The earth laughs in flowers’, Ralph Waldo Emerson.”

Key grins at him.

 

“See, just like that! God you’re so pretentious,” he blows a piece of wet hair out of his eyes, “I purposely told the quote a bit mixed up to see if you would correct me,”

Key shakes his head. He really is a piece of work. But like artwork.

 

“Anyway,” Key continues, “I need someone to bring me flowers every day because I need to laugh everyday. Everyone does, really. You’d be kind of depressing to be around if you didn’t. If every day I received even a daisy I would have no trouble laughing. Flowers just keep things happy and simple, you know? People say ‘an apple a day keeps the doctor away’ and I say ‘Well I have diabetes running in my family so fruit is kind of risky, but a flower a day keeps the blues away’.”

 

Jonghyun has to fight back the urge to smile. What the hell. How can he just say something like that while holding a gun to my head?The gun. The gun. I need to get it. Don’t lose focus.

 

They are both quiet as they watch the ocean recede and come forth a few times. The cold has caused their bodies to go numb.

 

After a while, Jjong speaks, his eyes still on the water. His clothes are heavy with rain. However, the moment he begins speaking, he forgets whatever promise he told himself he would carry out. He forgets about the gun. The ocean keeps dancing and he forgets about the gun.

“I dyed my hair for the usual reason I guess. I mean, not because I hated having dark hair like everyone else. I actually don’t mind blending in all that much. I dyed it more for a fresh start. For a change.”

 

Jjong isn’t really sure why he suddenly feels so calm under the gun. Maybe it’s because the person on the other side seems to not want to cause any harm.

 

Jjong’s eyes drift back to the waves, “I don’t know. The day I got accepted to the S.C.I, I realized I didn’t have anyone to celebrate with. So I got this sudden urge, and I ran out of the crap apartment I was living in then to the drugstore across the street, and grabbed like three boxes of blonde hair dye, plus a thing of bleach because I wasn’t actually sure how to dye my hair,” Jjong laughs, and a soft smile traces Key’s lips, but he remains silent, waiting for Jonghyun to finish his story.

 

“And so I went home and watched about thirteen of those dumb tutorials on Youtube. And when I finally had the last round of bleach settling on my hair it felt strange. When you bleach your hair, the dye literally strips your color away. It it out until there’s nothing left,” Jjong self consciously runs a hand through his wet hair.

“And well, I liked the idea of something being able to strip away something old. And so I dried my hair and went on with my life. I went to my first day of work. I got promoted to lead the Class A group. And when my roots started to show, I stripped them away as soon as I could see them.”

 

Jjong says nothing more.

Stripping away your roots, huh? Key thinks.

 

After a long minute of the rain pressing down on the two, Key breaks the silence.

 

“Is that the end?” he questions.

Jonghyun nods slowly and places his hands in his lap, staring at them. Bits of gravel stick to his palms from making such sudden contact with concrete.

Key turns to face him with his whole body now, drawing his knees up to his chest and cocking his head sideways. The gun still remains on Jjong.

“That didn’t sound like the usual reason to me at all.”

 

Jjong says nothing. He feels no threat. Maybe it’s poor instincts, but Jonghyun feels very relaxed. The only thing on his mind is the face of the little girl, Kim Hyori. It’s strange to think that the brother of that small face sits right before him and no longer on a screen or in muddled memories. Where is Hyori now? Where is that little girl that ate noodles politely and was nervous to just ask where the restroom was?

 

Jonghyun is about to take a leap and just ask, when Key decides to speak up. I should return him back to s before they get suspicious.

Key stands first, careful to never let the gun leave Jjong.

 

“Get up.”

 

Jonghyun follows instructions just as when he sat down. His clothes stick awkwardly to his wet skin, and after seeing Key jerk his head back in the direction they’d come, Jonghyun begins to uncomfortably trudge through the sand and back to the Market stands.

“Walk faster. Walk like the crazy moon is chasing you.”

 

When he reaches the fence, he quickly scrambles over, then wipes his hands on his dark pants to remove the sand and gravel from earlier. An image of the full moon with thin legs chasing after him makes him shiver.

 

But when he turns around to ask Key what he meant, he finds no one but the lonely fence drenched in rain standing there. The moon is back in the sky, not chasing after him.

Jonghyun isn’t sure why, but Key's sudden disappearance leaves him feeling disappointed

☽ ☾

Really the only enclosed area of the market was the security room. A cramped, old building with the roof bowing in just a bit; probably from the constant water it had to hold. Onew takes out his homemade silver lock picker and holds it up to face the rusty door before him.

“Open,open open,” Onew whispers to himself, then kisses it. He often kisses things because it’s his way of letting a bit of good Karma out into the world. If you kiss a baseball bat before hitting, the ball is more likely to soar. That was his philosophy.

 

He sets to work on the lock, weaving the stick inwards and outwards, until the rusty door clicks open.

“Door’s open,” Onew calls to Taemin, only about ten yards away.

“Sweet. Call me over if you find anything interesting,” Taemin responds in a calm voice; seemingly distracted on inspecting the purpling body.  

Onew continues into the dull room, his belt light shining eerily. His eyes meet with a chunky computer, white dirty blinds, and wires scattered about. It smells of dust and sea salt; a musty and strange combination.

 

The old computer clicks on, and Onew’s almond eyes settle on an ocean of small green letters and numbers. He plays around  with a few different codings; deleting sections and replacing them with the date and supposed time of the murder. The program shudders before granting him access. It lays out a variety of cameras and videos to choose from: small squares of grey footage.

 

He clicks around further, watching a few pieces that give a view into a bustling fish market, and then others that show quiet nights with nothing but tarps flying in the wind. Nothing special. Nothing strange. Certainly no wild 22 year old on a bloody rampage.

It isn’t until he reaches this past Sunday’s date, that something peculiar does flood the screen. A dark figure abruptly scampers out and moves toward the camera, almost animal like, on elbows and knees. Something long and dark hangs from their head.

 

What the hell? The figure had been much shorter than Kibum’s height of 5’11. Maybe 5’2. Maybe. It might have been from their weird position?

 

Static fills the screen, and Onew frustratingly hits the side of the thick 90s computer until the monitor clears. His eyes widen as he brings his face nearer to the footage to get a better look.

The mysterious figure is gone.

 

Instead, a woman who appears to be restocking fish, comes onto the screen. Byung Hee. The dark figure reappears behind her and suddenly pulls off the enveloping jacket drooping over their shoulders, allowing Onew to catch a glimpse of a long black braid tumbling down their back. The dark thing hanging from the head of the person earlier.

 

“Is that...a woman?” Onew questions aloud, disbelief clear in his tone.

His eyes don’t leave the screen as the strange woman in the black roughly grabs Byung Hee by the shoulders, and pushes her to the concrete ground.  

 

The glint of a knife being pulled from under her jacket makes Onew’s eyes narrow. The woman in black sloppily settles on top of Byung Hee and lightly presses the knife into the terrified woman’s skin as she begins horizontally cutting . Her slicing is so slow and precise that Onew can’t help but shake as Byung Hee’s cries are drowned by her own gurgles to breath around the blood. A coldness from the pure terror causes Onew to grab his chest in disgust .The woman in black slips off from on top of Byung Hee’s body and crouches beside her ear, pressing into Byung Hee’s hair slick with blood.

The whispers she exchanges with the woman in her last few moments of life are lost to Onew’s ears. He grunts and firmly presses down a button to pause the video, before impatiently turning the knobs around him all the way to the right; full volume. His fingers swiftly scramble across the navigation board to rewind the tape to five seconds before, where the woman has just begun to lean over a wide eyed Byung Hee. He hits play.

 

Onew is fully focussed as the woman’s thin lips begin to move, his eyes devouring every small moment.

“If only you weren't so pretty,” her raspy voice croaks out.

Byung Hee's eyes wide, shaking, blood dripping from her neck, makes a last attempt to rise and run.

Onew watches as the woman in black laughs loudly, a strangely soft sound, laced with an eeriness that gets his skin crawling. The woman’s scrawny hands grip the knife tightly and with one last chortle she pins Byung Hee to the ground and sinks the knife deep into her chest.

 

Once. Twice. Three times.

 

Blood covers the woman as her thin body straightens. She quickly stashes the bloody knife away into her coat before scampering away just as strangely as when she’d entered.

 

Only this time a tall, thin figure hurries inside after her, his hands shaking with fear. Kibum. Key. It’s him. It’s him. Kibum drops to the ground, moving his hands over the concrete, and then pulls a knife out of the inside of his hoodie, dragging it through the blood covering Byung Hee’s neck, and chest, before quietly laying it down beside her body. Kibum rises, and suddenly looks straight at the camera, seemingly deciding something. Onew’s breath catches at the direct eye contact.

Kibum looks down, bringing a crumpled piece of paper from the side of his shoe. He unwrinkles it, then holds it in front of his chest for all to see. Well, for the camera to see:

 

HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART, I BEG OF THEE, PLEASE TELL THEM, IT WAS ME

 

Onew slams the spacebar, freezing Key’s pale face in a world that will never move.

 

“What. The. Hell was that?” Onew asks himself, feeling completely sick and confused. High school sweetheart?

“What?” Taemin calls.

“Tae come over here. Now.”

Taemin immediately comes running, his wet, bloody gloves still covering his hands.

“What what what?”

Onew  stands, pulls Taemin over to the chair in front of the screen, and replays the entire video for him.

 

Once the screen returns to the default of the empty room, Taemin turns, ever so slowly, to his brother,“So... it wasn’t Key who killed the woman. But it kinda was? He was there, hiding the whole time, but didn’t actually do any of the killing. It seems like he wants us to think he did it. ‘Tell them it was me’, what the is that all about? Does he expect us to keep this a secret or something?”

“I’m wondering who his sweetheart is. Like? He obviously meant for that person to watch this video so..?” Onew replies, eyebrows furrowed.

 

“Come look at the body.”

Onew raises an eyebrow.

“C’mon. I just want to list off all the things we do know.”

Onew follows Taemin outside the shack, and right up to the body. Taemin hands Onew a pair of gloves and they both duck under the yellow caution tape.

“Okay, so before I saw that video, I saw that there was a slit on and obviously more than one stab in her torso.The knife was about  three to four inches by the depth of the wounds...oh! Also in the video I realized  the woman Key was hiding from had never turned the body face down...so that was probably the polices doing. I guess the police were picking her up but bumped into Key and dropped everything then just ran. So...", Taemin finishes while biting his lip, “Onew. What the is going on.”

 

After a few minutes of puzzled babblement, the two duck back out towards the beach to announce to Jjong their findings. One more mind’s input would help bring things into perspective, right?

The brothers trudge through the sand, flashing their lights across abandoned stands.

They finally find Jonghyun rooted to the spot outside of a deteriorating fence, staring off towards the ocean.

Taemin nudges Onew, and Onew nods. What was up with their leader? A look of sadness was painted across his features.

“Jjong? You alright?” Taemin asks, his voice almost swallowed by the greedy ocean.

 

But Jonghyun seems very far away. He doesn’t respond.

 

Onew steps forward, giving Taemin a look to stay back, “Jjong, are you okay? Did you hit your head or something man?”

Jonghyun suddenly swallows, catching his breath from the lack of breathing. Why the hell didn’t I try harder to shoot him?Why why why?

Jonghyun turns to the brothers’s, trying to rearrange his face to look neutral, calm: the face of a leader who knew exactly what he was doing.

“Uh yeah. This damn thing hit me right upside the head.” .

 

 

A/N:

Ayyo. Things are gettin' a little skaken up now heheh. Key's kinda my fave if you coudn't tell HAHAH. I like making Jjong question his prorities, I'm so mean lmao. You'll find out who the creepy lady on the tape Is next chapter c; OKAY PEACE OUT ILY I ALSO START SCHOOL IN TWO DAYS SO I MIGHT START UPADATING EVERY 2 WEEKS IDK