Jessica glanced at the door for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last five minutes. Where was Haruki? Maybe she’d gotten lost? Maybe she’d gotten sidetracked again?

The model opened her purse and d for her phone, but before she could pull it out, there was a tap on her shoulder.

Some old lady- probably someone who had barely known Krystal- was smiling at her sympathetically. The old bat’s wrinkles practically swallowed her whole face as she patted Jessica’s arm tenderly. The model cringed away.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, my dear.”

“Thank you,” Jessica said automatically, taking a step away.

“It must be hard for you-”

“Excuse me.” Jessica brushed rudely past the woman, ignoring her indignant huff. If her roommate were here, Haruki would be sure to help deflect some of the unwanted pity. Everyone was staring at her and whispering as she walked by- did they think she wouldn’t notice? Why couldn’t they stop treating her as if she were on the brink of a meltdown?

“Jessica, darling, what are you doing?” her mother scolded, taking her arm. “That was Krystal’s teacher, you know. There’s no need to be so rude-”

“Leave me alone.” Jessica yanked herself out of her mother’s grasp and half-ran out of the funeral home. She sank down on a bench, clutching her purse against her chest.

Vultures, all of them. No one cared about Krystal, all of them were here out of morbid curiosity. Did they think she couldn’t hear the whispered rumors and outrageous theories that were shared behind her back? Did her parents think they could make up for a lifetime of neglect by burying Krystal with flowers and ceremony, things her little sister never wanted?

Jessica hugged her purse more tightly as she felt tears threatening to smudge her mascara. She was a hypocrite, too. Was she mourning the sister she had and barely knew, or the sister she’d never have now?

“Jessica?” a soft voice called from the doorway.

Turning her head, she saw Amber and Luna, two of Krystal’s friends from high school, slowly approaching. “Hi,” she said. “Glad you two could make it.”

“Do you think Krystal…” Amber began hesitantly, gesturing to the crowd inside, hovering around the coffin.

“Do I think she’d like it?” Jessica finished for her, shaking her head. “Honestly, no. I think she’d hate it. But she’d be happy you came.”

“We were wondering if you’ve talked to Detective Morita,” Luna said timidly. “We wanted to know…”

Jessica nodded. “They caught him,” she replied. “Last night. It’s over, now.”

Tiny smiles lit up both girls’ faces. “That’s good to hear,” Amber breathed.

“Where is she?” Luna asked. “Is she coming?”

The question brought Jessica back to the first of her long train of worries. “She should be on her way. I’ll call her and check.”

She pulled out her phone and dialed her roommate’s number. Her eyes widened as a flash of panic twisted in her stomach, the words spoken by the mechanical voice on the other end of the line ringing in her ears:

“The number you are trying to call is unreachable…”

The hacker’s apartment door was slightly open and Donghae barged in without knocking, gun in hand. “Police!” he called, fearing the worst.

Haruki hadn’t been home when he’d arrived at her apartment, and he wanted to assume that she was either on her way or at the funeral. But when he tried to reach her, the voice on the other end told him that her phone could not be reached.

And he was pretty sure that didn’t mean she’d just turned it off for the time being.

“Jiyong!” he yelled. “Haruki!”

A spot of red staining the carpet caught his attention- blood. Judging by the color, it was still fresh. His eyes followed the trail into the kitchen and down the hall, towards a closed door. “Jiyong! Haruki!” he called again.

A faint groan answered him and he sprinted towards the door. It was locked, but he kicked it open.

His heart stopped.

Jiyong was lying on his bed, chest slashed open, blood soaking through the blankets and pooling on the floor.

“Jiyong!” Tossing his gun to the side, Donghae grabbed the nearest shirt he could find and pressed it firmly to the wound, fumbling for his phone with his free hand. “Hello? We need an ambulance, right now. This is an emergency!”

The hacker stirred faintly, eyes blinking open and struggling to register on Donghae’s face. He grunted in pain as Donghae pressed down harder. “Donghae?” he slurred.

“Come on, man. Stay with me. Don’t you dare pass out.”

“W-we…we were wrong,” Jiyong gasped out.

"Don’t try to talk,” Donghae snapped. The hacker coughed, his whole body shaking from the impact and rolled his head to the side as a trickle of blood dripped from his mouth.

“Wasn’t…him…” Jiyong rasped.

“I know, I know. Just hang in there, okay?” Donghae snapped. “Just a few more minutes.”

Inwardly, he wanted to curse with frustration. Always two steps behind the killer. The bastard had framed Jiyong and then attacked him, knowing that Donghae would come here to investigate. And now he was stuck there, until the ambulance arrived, while his partner was…

“Where is…she?” Jiyong coughed out.

“Stop trying to talk,” the detective retorted.

“Donghae, h-he’s going a-after her. You h-have to-”

“Shut up. Please.” Donghae glared at him and the hacker stopped talking, his raspy breathing fueling the tense atmosphere. Donghae glanced down at his watch and cursed the ambulance. What the hell was taking them so long?

Haruki, hang in there, alright? I’m on my way.

Chief Park rubbed the bridge of his nose as Sooyoung brought him another cup of coffee. “This day is completely going to ,” he complained. She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t smile. “I’ve gotten calls and emails from every single newspaper and TV station in the whole damn city. How the hell does word get around that fast?”

“It was a big story,” Sooyoung replied. “What do you want me to tell them for now?”

“What I want to say is completely different from what’s appropriate,” Leeteuk replied, taking a sip of coffee and rubbing his forehead. “Until we get Haruki and Donghae’s statements, just tell them ‘no comment’.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” asked Sooyoung. “I mean, you know the kind of monster the media is. If we don’t give them a statement, they’ll make up their own stories.”

“Donghae’s talking to Sungmin right now,” Leeteuk replied. “He should have his statement prepared soon. And Haruki promised to send hers after she got back from the funeral.”

Sooyoung shook her head as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “I just can’t believe he could do that to her.”

“I can’t believe we hired someone that sick,” Leeteuk added. “Do you know how bad that looks for us-” He was interrupted by his phone ringing and he held up a finger. “Hold that thought.” He flipped his phone open and held it to his ear. “Hello?”

“Chief, it’s not Sungmin,” came Donghae’s strained voice.

“What?” Leeteuk was sure he’d heard wrong. Sooyoung, noticing the sharpness in his tone, slowly set down her coffee with a frown.

“Who is it?” she mouthed, but he shook his head and turned away slightly. 

“I don’t have time to explain it right now,” Donghae replied. “Have you heard from Haruki?”

“No, I haven’t. Donghae, what’s going on? Where are you?”

“I’m at the hospital,” Donghae explained. “Jiyong was attacked and the killer’s still on the loose. I think he has her and-”

“Wait, Jiyong was attacked? Is he okay?”

“Slashed across the chest. The doctor’s say it was a pretty shallow wound, but he’s lost a lot of blood,” Donghae replied. “Chief, her roommate called me and said she never came to the funeral. I can’t reach her. I think her phone is broken.”

Leeteuk swore under his breath, his grip on the phone tightening. “You’re sure about this, Donghae? I-”

"Yes, damn it! I’m sure! I couldn’t be more sure! Chief, say something! My partner’s life is in danger and we have no way to find her and I can’t leave until Jiyong’s stable! Say something!”

Leeteuk looked at Sooyoung, who was already rising to her feet, having grasped the gist of the situation. “Call all available units now and tell them to start searching for Haruki. I am not going to lose one of my top detectives to this bastard.”

Sooyoung nodded and dashed out of the room. “We’ll find her in time, right?” Donghae asked quietly.

“We can’t afford not to,” Leeteuk replied. He sighed; sometimes, he really hated his job. “Donghae, if the killer isn’t Sungmin, then who is it?”

Haruki woke with a dim light shining in her eyes and her head pounding like a bass drum. Her nose was stinging, for some reason, and her fuzzy brain was taking too long to figure out why. Her eyes felt gritty and she tried to pass a hand over her face.

She couldn’t.

Her eyes flew open.

The first thing she saw was a small light hanging above her head. She looked down at her hands. Her wrists were bound to the armrests of the chair with red-stained leather straps. She shifted her weight, trying to sit up. The padding of the chair was lumpy, and there was the strong smell of dried sweat, which even the lingering chloroform in her nose couldn’t mask.

Where am I?

Her gun was missing; the familiar weight of her belt at her hip was gone. She felt exposed without it. Exposed and helpless.

What happened?

She tried to think back, forcing her groggy brain to wake up more quickly. She’d been in the car, on the way to the funeral. She’d forgotten the address and gone to look for the directions Jessica had texted her. She’d gotten a message from the killer.

He’d been in the car with her. He’d been in her car.

Glancing to the side, she spotted a metal tray, gleaming with surgical tools. Among them, looking completely out of place, was an ice pick.

Oh God, no…

She clenched her teeth to bite back a scream as she desperately lunged forward. The chair tilted before a strap around her waist slammed her back in place, the whole thing rocking as if it were about to tip over. She twisted her arms, trying to yank her hands free of their restraints, but the more she struggled, the tighter they got until the chafing brought a stinging pain to her wrists.

Empathy had never been Haruki’s strong point, but being strapped down in this chair, she could sense the emotions of its previous occupants. The terror IU and Sulli felt in the moments before they died. Krystal and Hyorin’s desperation before their personalities, their abilities to make decisions, the very things that made them human were destroyed.

…was this how her sister had felt before she was assaulted?

A door slammed somewhere in the distance and she jumped. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her whole head throbbing and- wait…she could hear something besides the maniacal beating of her heart.

Music?

Her ears felt clogged, as if she’d plunged her head into a bucket of water. Only snatches of the lyrics could be heard:

“Crazy…memories…farewell…”

She closed her eyes again, as if that would block out the sound. She needed to think. She needed to get out of here before her kidnapper came back. Giving herself a mental kick, Haruki focused her eyes on the surgical tools beside her. If she could get even one of them…

“I’m gonna hate it girl…”

She shook her head. Concentrate. Focus. Make a plan. Maybe if she could get her hands on a scalpel or-

“Noona neomu yeppeo…”

One single line of the song stood out as the rest faded into a blur and Haruki’s mind grabbed onto it, clinging like a hangglider on the brink of cliff; she was standing at the edge of an epiphany she didn’t want to have- the answer lay below her in ugly, dark shadows. Then the pieces came whirling into place, slamming together so quickly they practically slapped her across the face, sending her fuzzy brain spinning.

Of course.

She should have known. She should have known.

Footsteps sounded over the music as she sensed a figure approaching her.

“Hello, noona.”

She didn’t want to turn her head towards the person stepping into the light and confirm what she already knew, but her eyes were drawn towards him all the same.

“Taemin…” 

A/N: As usual, no spoilers in the comments, please. Hope you enjoyed it! Brownie points to anyone who figured it out already.