11; Tomato juice

Rainclouds invaded the sky like dark clumps of cotton wool. A vast shade extended across the neighbourhood, save for the occasional patches of sun that peeped through every now and then. The Sunday that followed the event of the commissioner’s wakeup call was a cool day; rain expected to fall approaching midday, however the morning thus far was pleasant.

It was 6 AM. And after another one-sided encounter with his housecat, Park Jimin retreated to his trusted blender in the kitchen.

'Good morning...!' he chimed enthusiastically at the cat, managing to corner her outside his bedroom door.

Seemingly threatened by his cheery cry and outstretched arms that were bound to embrace her, Pepper's ears went flat and her pupils slackened in alarm. Disregarding her panicky reaction however – as always – Jimin's smile only widened as he approached her successfully and the cat's small head. As far as he knew Pepper, the only response she was capable of when it came to affection was something equivalent to receiving an electric shock. Her entire body stiffened and she looked ready to pounce away at any moment, however this morning, she was surprisingly tolerant. Still looking as if she were in pain by her owner's endearment, but nevertheless, tolerant.

Jimin hummed as he made his way into the kitchen thereafter. Snacking on crispy tofu he prepared in the waffle-maker, he tossed a cup of almond milk, a couple of chopped kiwis, and the last of his baby spinach into the machine, occasionally squeezing a lemon in from the top as it whizzed. Regrettably he didn’t have any mint to add to the concoction for taste, but the drink wasn’t half bad as he sipped some from the bottle thereafter.

Geared for his morning jog, Jimin tied the last of his shoelaces, inspecting the colourful pair on his feet before leaving out the front door.

‘See you later, Pepper!’

He tucked in his earphones, patted down his jacket, and thus, Officer Park Jimin’s Sunday run was officially in commencement. As he ran, he was incredibly grateful for the fact that he saved himself any sort of possible embarrassment last night. Because running with a killer headache and lethargic limbs was something he didn’t want to deal with this morning. Especially not this morning.

There was no doubt in his mind that a number of drunken concerns and personal peeves would have come up if perhaps he did go all out… and recalling yesterday's events, Jimin ought to have still been brooding over what happened between himself and the commissioner. However, this wasn't the case.

Instead, an amused, crooked smirk found its way on his face as he ran. Chest heaving and feet pounding on the ground, with rainclouds hurrying past overhead, Jimin felt his cheeks bloat with laughter at the recollection of last night. Boy, wasn't that something.

Jimin’s train of thoughts however was quickly interrupted when he noticed a tiny familiar figure in the distance, standing on the front lawn of a bright green garden.

‘Good morning, aunty!’

He called out as he approached, and the older woman smiled at him in response; a hippo-shaped watering can in her shaking hands. ‘Oh, Chimin! You’re just in time to help me with something.’

He smiled warmly. ‘Of course.’

The elderly woman disappeared into the small home, and as if on cue, the rest of the pensioners living on the street poured out onto their front lawns with the entertaining likeness of bunnies. Jimin didn’t know whether they had it scheduled or whether their activities simply coincided.  Nonetheless, he was more than happy to spend a small portion of his morning with them and assist where he could.

‘Jimin, make it a habit to come round with your cop gear.’

‘Jung-ssi,’ he said, feigning seriousness with raised eyebrows and a tilted head.

He stacked the last of the palates and neatly arranged the refuse bags outside near the bins, and placed his hands on his hips, emulating the signature pose of authority.

‘I’m afraid my cop gear comprises of handcuffs too.’

The old woman waved him off when an amused smile split across his lips. ‘I thought you were going to say grenades, because that’ll at least destroy the little swine’s bed!’

Jimin’s cheeks rose higher and he let out a twinkling chuckle at the elderly woman’s seriously plotting expression. She was so intent on killing the chap that if he actually did go ahead on his morning run with weapons, he had no doubt in his mind she’d have the time of her life utilizing them on her poor grandson. And maybe blowing up the entire street while she’s at it. Shaky hands and all.

‘Oh, and about the date for Kyungja’s tea party…’

Jimin almost choked on his spit at the name, turning around quickly to face the old woman who returned with a packet full of celery she apparently had no idea what to do with.

‘K-Kyung…?’

Noting the confused look on his face, Ms Jung quickly corrected the latter. ‘Chunja, it’s Chunja!’

‘Aigoo, that’s not what I said?’

The name she'd blurted out by mistake was – for once – something that actually didn't fill him with dread or irritation. In fact, all he was capable of was a small smile that none of the older women watching him could understand. Was he that happy to get celery instead of chocolate treats? Little did they know, it was a different story altogether.

Jimin excused himself from the usual gathering of elderly that slowly began appearing from all corners of the street for their gossip sessions, and continued the remainder of his jog. Brief claps of thunder sounded overhead as he progressed, and glancing up, he was greeted by a gloomy swelling of dark clouds. Sheets of rain could be seen in the distance, and he was thankful for the convenience store in sight. The rain had approached faster than he imagined, catching him with a few drops in greeting, but he’d otherwise made it to his destination unscathed.

His paced jogging was reduced to long strides as he slowed upon reaching the entrance, and slipped past a pair of women who just exited. Despite the smell of sweat inevitable of a man who’d just ran a considerable distance of 1.5 kilometres with little to no stops, the attraction he exuded was not to be taken lightly.

The women came to a standstill upon exiting as they watched him roll his fingers over a sweat-glistening neck; dark hair being pulled along in the process; and his plump lips curl under a set of straight top teeth, save for the top right tooth that jutted out ever so unnoticeably. His chest heaved from exhaustion, and the tension in his muscles was evident by the strained details of his neck stretches. He pushed his bangs – now damp with sweat and rainwater – back, exposing the nice shape of his forehead and if not for the rain that suddenly came down at full force, the pair of dazed, flustered women outside would have never left at all.

‘Jimin…!’ a familiar voice chimed closely as soon as he entered the store. ‘Wassup, clumsy spy?’

The young officer stared at Kim Seokjin – who leaned over a House & Garden magazine casually on the counter – with the likeness of a mouldy piece of bread. The nickname made him cringe. And considering just where about it had come from spurred on a look the horrendous combination of a cackle and a gag.

Noting the latter’s reaction, the cashier’s face contorted in overdramatic shock. ‘Hey, what’s with that look? On the contrary, you should treat me extra well because I gave you credit!’

‘Oh, that.’

‘Yes, that!’

'Anyway, I need tomatoes but I've only got ₩400.'

'Excuse me? Do you think this is some kind of beggar's market?'

The officer reared his head back in exaggerated shock. 'Jin, I thought we were friends!'

Ignoring the colourful, crumpled notes in his hands that he attempted bargaining with, Seokjin returned his attention into the magazine. He flipped to another page with a nudge of his thumb and scrolled through it coolly with his eyes.

'Put that money away. You're an embarrassment to the masculine species.'

Jimin snorted. 'Says the pretty-faced guy.'

'Anyway,' the cashier ignored him with a throbbing vein that surfaced on his forehead. 'How's your girlfriend holding up? Last time I checked, she was way hammered, man.'

The word girlfriend spurred on a series of goose bumps that travelled the length of Jimin's arms and neck. Following this was heat that radiated off his cheeks, and Seokjin watched the entire thing with a wicked sort of amusement considering it felt a little bit like revenge for his earlier comment.

'Girl...yah! She's not my—uh—that! We're partners, partners!'

The store assistant's face at this point was red with laughter at the latter's hilariously exaggerated reaction. Jimin was well-known for his sensitive responses when it came to the topic of his physique or his love life (or perhaps lack of one). And unable to hold in how priceless the officer's obviously defensive response was, Seokjin's lips flapped with impending noisy laughter. All the while, Officer Park Jimin not in the least amused by his shameless explosion. Sometimes he really wondered if a demon lurked there behind those angelic, misleading looks of his.

'Ugh, whatever,' Jimin placed the side of his fist over his lips in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. 'Anyway, I didn't come here for you. I need those tomatoes.'

After a brief moment of recollecting himself, the cashier straightened his back again; a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips from his earlier amusement. 'Yah, ahjumma. I like old people and all, but...'

Growing tired of the older man's joking antics, Jimin resorted to the one and only thing he was positive would work. He ducked his chin and damp strands of dark hair fell over his eyes eerily, that widened with the action. Seokjin's face immediately blanched at the action as he watched the latter who seemingly appeared to be having a heart attack with all that heavy breathing and trembling.

'Please, Jinnie?' he pleaded with a horrific tilt of the head. 'Just this once? Pretty please?'

Traumatized by what he was just witness to, the cashier had no choice but to give in to the officer's demands. He watched in horror from over his magazine as Jimin smiled triumphantly in response to successfully attaining what he'd come in for, and shuddered as he watched the man leave.

And the only thing on Seokjin’s mind then – still recovering from the terrors he was seconds ago wrongfully subject to – was, 'in some twisted way... I guess his aegyo works.'

Officer Park Jimin's morning jog today this Sunday consisted of an unusual detour.

He entered the home with a tentative twist of the bronze door handle. It squeaked as he turned it with a flick of the wrist and upon the white wooden slab clicking open, he gulped. Thankfully the rain had eased into a light drizzle while making his way here from the convenience store, so he didn’t have to worry too much about wet shoes and dripping clothes.

'Pardon the intrusion...,' he announced to no one in particular, seeing himself into the house that seemed a lot different in the day than it was last night.

He gulped again, feeling a tingling sense of unease at the prospect of entering the home. It felt as if he was breaking into a person's house. And thinking about the owner of the home made him all the more uncomfortable about his visit.

'H-hello...?' he asked tentatively, clutching his bottle in one hand and tomatoes in the other as if they were deadly weapons.

'Is anyone home?'

He was a police officer for crying out loud, not a burglar! He cringed at the thought and with an uncomfortable jumble of expressions along with the stillness in the home, he made his way into the kitchen quietly.

Jimin put the tomatoes on the counter and sighed. He glanced at his watch, noting he was a few minutes earlier than usual considering his unexpected detour. 7.15 AM. He blew a few wayward strands of hair from his eyes and as he stood casually inspecting his surroundings, unconsciously staring at the black and white spotted granite counter tops ahead of him. The kitchen gave off a chilliness characteristic of the monochrome choice of palette, but the miniature succulents growing in equally miniature pots was a pleasant, homely touch. In fact, everywhere he looked there were traces of the plants present.

Which reminded him of the certain thing he entered the home for in the first place.

'Woon?'

Jimin craned his neck to get a better view of the door frame, yet the only thing that greeted him was darkness. He made his way around the counter tousling his dark hair, and with another sigh, walked into the next room. The door was ajar – just the way he remembered leaving it – and he entered with a nudge of the elbow.

He stared at the form collapsed face-down on the large bed; the body buried within a cluster of white sheets like foam. It was Officer Woon Kyungja. Passed out in precisely the way he remembered when he had carried her home in her drunken stupor and left.

'Woon...,' he approached the bed with as much caution mustered towards a wild animal.

… Well, considering what he was subject to last night, it wasn't at all an exaggerated precaution. 'Officer Woon?'

However she didn't stir. And upon getting closer to the woman to inspect her, he noticed a slither of drool against her chin. He shuddered, instantly regretting checking up on her from this close and was certain that whatever image he had of her up to this point had now taken a 180 degree turn.

'Man, you're a mess...,' he commented absently, scrutinizing her swollen lips and red cheeks.

But the more he found himself staring at her sleeping face; save for the stray peanut skins on her chin from last night; the more he realized this was the most at peace she'd ever appeared for as long as he knew her. Which triggered the memories of last night with unforeseen clarity…

'Hmm...,'

Her eyes narrow