Nine

Jiho couldn’t bear to watch his colleague just move the food about on his plate, listlessly staring ahead of him while breathing out an occasional sigh. The fact that they had no idea or clue as to who the next target was – out of the entire population of Seoul – was currently playing a big role in bringing the atmosphere down, but he knew that Inseong was feeling worse than himself about it. He could understand why; the man had been risking his career till now for this one case. But this was food they were talking about, and especially from Seungjun’s café.

“Playing with your scrambled eggs is not going to be of any help, Inseong,” he said, his tone cautious and soft for fear of riling the other guy up. He received another sigh as a reply, and his partner looked even more dejected – if that was possible going by the overall mood surrounding their table.

“Jiho, we are police officers,” the other began, looking up to finally, half-heartedly lock gazes, “we’re supposed to protect the citizens of our country, but how can we do that if we can’t even save one person?”

“If you have anyone to blame for that, my dear friend, it is hierarchy,” the brunet stated simply, shrugging as he leaned back in his seat. “We are part of the lowest levels of the police system, and there is literally nothing we can do to change it. That’s the harsh reality of the world.”

Inseong moved ahead, both palms fisted tightly enough for the knuckles to turn white. “That is why I’m begging you, we need to tell the higher-ups about this. Losing my job doesn’t matter if it results in the criminal getting caught, but if Chief Han knows, he can use his authority,” he insisted.

Jiho closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before gazing evenly at the fellow detective. “Listen, Inseong,” he said, placing both hands lightly on the table, “I know and understand the urgency of the situation, but trust me: there is no way anyone is going to listen to you; at least, not until you have concrete evidence that these are not acts by the trafficking ring.”

The taller of the two huffed loudly, nostrils flaring as he leaned back, arms crossed. He knew he was close to throwing a tantrum, but what Jiho said just made him even more restless. He followed the other’s actions, closing his eyes and inhaling and exhaling deeply a few times as he tried to calm himself down. He opened his eyes to look at the food lying on his plate – barely touched and mostly just moved around – and reached for the chopsticks. Trying to think of a plan on an empty stomach would probably end up making him crankier. That, and if Seungjun somehow found out he had wasted food, he would most likely never hear the end of it from the older for the next few weeks. He focused his attention on finishing his breakfast, feeling his partner’s slight relief.

Feeling a lot better after getting something solid in his stomach, Inseong finally smiled faintly, Jiho returning it with a smile of his own. The two men exited the café, stopping at the end of the block. The former fished inside the pocket of his overcoat for his phone, and made a quick call to Youjin to check whether he was at home.

“Okay, next step,” he said once he had disconnected the call, “I will show those pictures to him to see if my theories are correct. Doctors are usually pretty eager to help with things like this, so I’m a little relieved to have one as a housemate,” he added, only half kidding. “There isn’t really anything else we could do at the moment to gather evidence, though.”

“How about we try profiling the criminal as much as we can?” The latter suggested. “You have already done a major part of it, so if we have enough evidence to prove that the killer utilised the same modus operandi only as a means of distracting the law enforcement agencies, we might be able to convince the Chief.”

Inseong grinned his usual rabbit-like grin, nudging the other with an elbow. “Not bad, partner,” he commented, “you seem to have learned a lot by being with me. I’m proud of you.” Swiftly, he moved to the side to dodge the oncoming smack on his arm, laughing. There was a slight spring in his step as the two parted ways, and for some reason, he had hope they would be able to crack the case. How, he had no idea. But by no means was he going to give up, now of all times, and he was sure Jiho would have said the same thing.

“Welcome back,” Youjin said, smiling softly from where he was sitting on the sofa as Inseong opened the door. The younger smiled warmly in return as he stepped inside, taking his shoes off and putting them away. He made a beeline for the bedroom he and Jihun shared, leaning over his table as he searched through the stack of papers and photocopies of case files for the autopsy photographs. He just barely registered the presence of his best friend in the room, stopping for a few seconds to ask his usual “hey, how are you?” before walking back out into the living room.

“Inseong,” the oldest of the housemates called out the moment he caught sight of the other coming out, “did you want to talk to me about something?” He stopped looking at his phone, patting the empty seat next to his own.

Always the most observant, Inseong thought as he gave a nod, plopping down next to the doctor on the sofa. “I am in need of your knowledge, advice and expertise, Youjin-hyung,” he said sincerely, only to be met with a kind laugh from the other.

“You don’t need to butter me up before asking any favours of me,” the older commented, and Inseong let out a chuckle, scooting away a little to make some space between the two of them for the photos. He started laying them down next to each other, completely oblivious to the expression on Youjin’s face, the smile literally dropping at the speed of light.

“Well then, I’ll take you up on that off–”

“Where did you get that?”

Inseong wasn’t as irked by the interruption as he was scared at the tone Youjin had used to ask him that. This was the first time he had ever heard the oldest speak in such a way, and he was somewhat terrified of looking back up at him. Slowly, very hesitantly, his head rose, meeting the unsteady gaze of the other, his eyes widening in shock. The usually calm Kim Youjin’s features were twisted in an enraged grimace, but his eyes showed something else: fear. Pure, unhidden fear.

“Hyung, is… is everything okay?” He asked softly, absently clutching at one of the pictures and bringing it to eye level. “I just wanted to know a little about these incidents,” he continued, unsure of what kind of reaction to expect from the man in front of him. Apprehensively, he tried holding it out, only for Youjin to recoil in horror as he sprang up from the couch.

“Keep that away from me,” the older warned, his voice rising, almost pleading, much to the utter confusion of the detective. “Don’t show me those.”

“But Youjin-hyung, I just need some help with–”

“Inseong!” The doctor said in as firm a voice as he could, the younger visibly shuddering at the harsh edge. Inseong heard the sound of a door shutting near him, and turned his head to catch sight of a surprised Heejun standing still at the entrance to the apartment. Looking to the other side, he saw Jihun hurriedly walking out the bedroom with concern, his right arm gently cradling the injured, still recovering one. He turned back to the oldest, heart breaking ever so slightly as he took in the other’s disturbed expression.

“Please,” Youjin begged, voice now barely above a whisper, “don’t make me relive my nightmare.”

With that, he retreated hastily to his room, leaving the three younger men staring at each other in shock and disbelief.

Inseong was generally a pretty determined person when it came to getting what he wanted, but there was something about how broken Youjin had looked that had prevented him from asking about the topic any more. Seungjun had told the three youngest about the doctor’s past, and that had just made Inseong feel worse. Now he could only rely on his instincts and minimal medical knowledge while he and Jiho tried to make progress with their profiling – which wasn’t really going all that well either. It was like his partner had said: at their level and position, it was next to impossible to obtain any material information that would assist them in any way. Jiho had also informed him that their senior officer Kim Taeyang had started feeling a little suspicious regarding his constant questions, so it would be better for the two of them to lie low for the time being.

Pretty soon, the middle of the week approached, and with the steadily passing time, their stress rose. They now had even less time to work on their case because of the increase in the more trivial tasks being assigned to the lower ranking officers. Their colleagues Hansol and Byungjoo could sense the tense air around the other two, but one look at their faces was enough to stop them from asking any questions.

Back at home, Jihun was well on his way to recovery, but things with Youjin had worsened. The doctor refused to talk to any of the four men, leaving quietly for work and coming back seeming even quieter, if that was possible. The junior detective felt terribly guilty for making the oldest retreat into a shell, even if a small voice tried to insist it wasn’t entirely his fault.

Wednesday ended, and after having worked overtime for a couple hours – as usual – Inseong left the police station with his partner at a little past nine. There was a slightly uncomfortable silence between the two, which was understandable by both. After walking for the first few blocks together, they separated; the former making his way home, the dark, secluded paths familiar to him, as always. He came to a halt with a gasp as he realised the date: 10^th February. I can’t believe I forgot Youjin-hyung’s birthday, he chided himself as he made an on-the-spot decision to take a little detour for the oldest’s birthday gift. Hopefully, that would also give him an opportunity to apologise for his assertive behaviour the other day.

Lost in his thoughts, the detective failed to spot the other shadow until it was too late. An arm grabbed him from behind, holding Inseong’s neck firmly in a chokehold. His eyes widened, and his hands shot up to claw at the person’s arm as he tried to breathe as steadily as he could. A short, breathy laugh sounded in his ear, and the grip on his neck tightened slightly, roughly pulling him into his attacker’s chest.

“Hello, Jeong Inseong,” the stranger whispered in a muffled tone, and Inseong immediately realised that it was a man wearing a mask. “I’ve always hated the meddlesome, clever ones, you know. But I’m glad we finally met, even if it is for the first and the last time,” he continued, making sure to not raise his voice, and the officer felt a strong push on his back as he was suddenly let loose. Before he could fully comprehend his surroundings, he was being hurled headfirst towards a nearby wall. He barely had enough time to hold his hands out in front of him, but it did little to help him as his head hit the wall. He swayed on his legs as his eyes scrunched close – wrong move. The next second, he found himself being held by the mystery man again, a muscular forearm digging into his neck. He felt a cold and pointed metallic object touch his cheek, and it was clear that the other guy was having fun doing this.

This time, however, his attacker had lost the element of surprise, and Inseong’s police academy training and survival instincts kicked in. With one hand firmly seizing the arm round his neck, he brought his right hand forward before swinging it back swiftly, effectively elbowing the man in his chest. He attempted to turn around using his hold on the man’s arm as leverage, but the other was undeterred. Inseong felt a sharp pain on his face, and inwardly cursed at himself as he resorted to elbowing the attacker once again, this time using his other hand for added force.

He was finally freed, but before he could take his gun out and turn, there was a swift kick on his back, and he tumbled forward on the ground as he heard the man’s retreating footsteps behind him. He hurriedly collected himself as he stood up and whirled around, only to be met with empty space in front of him. He rushed ahead, rounding a corner, but there was no one to be seen. The attacker had been quick to escape.

So that was just another one of his tactics to scare me, huh? Inseong thought as he looked down at his slightly skinned palms, and dusted the dirt off his overcoat. A hand went to his sore neck to gently rub at the surface, and he coughed a little, his throat feeling dry. He was alert now, though, and jogged the rest of the way home, birthday gift forgotten.

“What the hell happened to you?!” Seungjun exclaimed the moment Inseong stepped inside the apartment, his usually pleasant voice harsh and loud enough to make the two youngest rush out of their respective rooms. Heejun let out a gasp, and Jihun’s mouth hung open as the three stared at the junior detective in shock. The dancer was the first to recover, and reached forward, taking a hold of his best friend’s arm and dragging him over to the couch. Inseong was made to forcefully sit down even as he insisted he was completely fine – “it’s just a couple scratches, guys, please” – while the tallest brought the first aid kit out. Jihun sat down next to the guy, grabbing the disinfectant and some cotton balls, and warningly held a finger up to stop the other from complaining.

“Shut up,” he said in a strict voice. “Don’t utter a single word till I’m done.”

That promptly made Inseong close his mouth, albeit with a roll of his eyes. He could see the other two out of the corner of an eye as he kept his gaze on the blond’s face. The other guy’s own wounds had almost healed, with the scar above his eyebrow being about the only evidence of the attack on him the previous week. The police officer in a breath, flinching a bit as he felt the disinfectant burn the cuts – more than one? He wondered – on his left cheek. Once those were bandaged, Jihun used one hand to move Inseong’s bangs away as he treated the wound on his forehead next. The latter’s eyes lowered as the youngest began to clean the blood and dirt from his palms where they had been skinned, and he sighed softly, not used to this feeling of being looked after by his housemates.

As soon as the younger two were done fussing over him, the café owner walked up with a glass of water, which Inseong gratefully downed in a single gulp. He looked at each of the others’ faces, sighing again as he realised there was no option he had other than confessing about what he had been doing for the past few weeks.

“You’re what?” Seungjun asked, disbelief written all over his face as he stared wide-eyed at the detective. The other two were equally shocked, but preferred to stay quiet as they let the oldest in the room handle it, looking back and forth between him and Inseong.

Sighing yet again, Inseong calmly held his now patched up hands out, motioning for the other to not freak out. “I’ve been trying to figure out who is behind the recent murders,” he said. “There were a lot of discrepancies I had started noticing, and I knew I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing,” he explained, Jihun narrowing his eyes.

“You do realise what happened tonight could very well have ended up in your death,” he said, brows furrowing in confusion and slight annoyance as the other shook his head vehemently.

“He wouldn’t do that,” Inseong began, leaning back into the sofa, arms now crossed. “There is no way he will break his pattern, one that he has worked so hard on to establish.”

The dancer stood up from his seat in exasperation, his back to his friend. “I can’t believe it,” he breathed out, turning around to lock gazes with the other guy. “Are you even listening to yourself?” He asked, raising his hands towards the other.

“Don’t you guys get it?” Inseong said in a faintly whiny tone. “The murderer has never done anything to me directly before tonight’s incident,” he explained. “This means I’m getting closer to finding out who the culprit is.”

“No, Inseong, don’t you get it?!” Jihun yelled, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. “That guy,” he said, pointing outdoors vaguely, “whoever he is, is dangerous. Once he found out you were onto him, he started by targeting me to get you off his back. When he realised you weren’t giving up, he tried to hurt you next. He’s a cold-blooded killer, Inseong, who’s to say he won’t go ahead and murder you if he finds you this much of a bother?” He paused, taking a deep breath as he crossed his arms across his chest. “You are not a kid, please don’t make us spell it out for you. There are people who care about you,” he added, a little calmly.

The detective shot up from where he was sitting, his eyes meeting his best friend’s in an unwavering gaze. “I am a police officer,” he said for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past couple of weeks, “and it is my duty to serve and protect the citizens of this country, even if it means I have to do it alone or with only my partner. I’m not afraid of losing my job or my life if it leads to the arrest of one offender.”

“That’s enough,” Seungjun interjected in a firm, slightly authoritative voice as he stood up as well, the youngest of the four mirroring him. “This will be the last time any of us talk about the murders or the man committing them. And Inseong,” he added, turning to the man, “please stop investigating the serial killings. We are all worried about you, I hope you understand.”

“And I hope you understand that I can’t, no, won’t stop this investigation,” Inseong countered, feeling the slightest bit of regret upon seeing the look of utter disappointment on the elder’s face. This is like trying to convince Shin Jiho all over again, he thought with an internal sigh. Seungjun did not spare him a second glance as he stalked over to the room he shared with Heejun, the latter following him inside after casting a concerned look towards Inseong. Jihun shot him a glare, shaking his head before whirling around, leaving the other guy in the living room. With a dispirited sigh, the detective sunk down heavily on the couch, knowing now how it felt to be truly, completely alone.

One look in the mirror at his wounds was enough to make Inseong understand his housemates’ alarmed reaction the other night. He had peeled off the bandages from his face, and could clearly see the deep as well as the few smaller cuts the attacker’s knife had inflicted on the left side of his face, mostly on his cheek. His forehead was bruised quite a bit from the impact, and he felt a dull, negligible throbbing around the area; apart from that, though, he felt totally fine. He cleaned the wounds and applied fresh bandages before leaving home early for work, a part of him feeling guilty about how things had ended between him and the others the previous night.

His partner’s reaction was quite similar to Seungjun’s – “the heck happened to your face?” – when he saw the multiple little plasters, although he was a lot calmer about the whole situation than his flatmates. His demeanour did seem grimmer after finding out his colleague had been attacked, but he couldn’t do anything other than tell Inseong to be careful.

They reached their desks and sat down, surprised to see the police chief standing nearby along with their senior detectives Taeyang and Hojoon, and a few others. The Chief turned to look at them, giving them both a brief nod.

“I’m glad you two are here early, there’s something we need to tell the junior officers,” he said, pausing briefly as Hansol and Byungjoo walked in a few moments later.

“Whatever investigation we have done so far regarding the recent brutal murders has all been in vain,” he began, clearing his throat. “We received intel an hour ago from law enforcement agencies in Thailand; the organ trafficking ring we were after has been caught. Thing is,” he paused once again, making sure he had everyone’s attention, “the gang was arrested three months ago.”

There was an audible, collective gasp from every one of the juniors except Jiho and Inseong, who discreetly exchanged grave looks. “This now brings us back to square one,” Chief Han continued, “and I expect everyone’s involvement in this case from today. Your seniors will brief you on everything,” he said as he gestured to the small group, before starting to walk in the direction of his cabin.

Jiho took one look at his impatient partner and gave the smallest of nods, and it was all the other needed as he stood up, the news making him feel confident. Okay, Inseong, it’s now or never, he said to himself. Here goes nothing.

“Excuse me, Chief?” He called out, earning the attention of everyone in the room, but his gaze remained fixed on Han Junseo. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Author’s Note:

How does every chapter I write end up being longer than the previous one? I swear I don’t do it on purpose. In fact, I thought I wouldn’t be able to go a single word above 2000.

Anyway, I hope this was an enjoyable chapter as well!

Okay, who am I kidding? Please don’t come at me for hurting Inseong. Believe me, he’s my ultimate bias, and you have no idea how queasy my stomach felt while writing that scene. I love writing dramatic scenes, though, so I couldn’t not include that little argument. …… Man, I hate the things that come out of my brain sometimes.

The next chapter will probably be the last, and it makes me feel bittersweet when I think about it. BUT let’s keep the sentimental talk for the end, shall we?~