As the reader has already been made aware of, Lee Sungjong was having a sick day. But to be honest, it wasn't quite on the level to even be called a sick day. There were no fevers, no sneezing fits, and no urges to throw up every little thing that passed through his lips. It was more that he had a particularly nasty headache, and felt the need to cough every once in a while. But it still counted as him being in physical pain, and the man knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate that day. Thus, Sungjong was having a sick day from work.

He knew that the Boss had been surprised when he'd made his call that morning. There was rarely a day when Sungjong missed work- as a CSI agent, there was too much to be done, and it was crucial that he do his job as quickly as he could. But today, he'd decided to make an exception. 'Well, you  do sound pretty bad,' Sunggyu had worried over the phone. 'Get some rest and feel better, okay? I'll have Woohyun fill in today.'

Knowing how much the infamously lazy male would like this, Sungjong just hoped Woohyun never found out what he was doing at the moment: chatting on the phone and munching on pretzels in his warm, cozy living room.

He shifted the receiver so that he could better hear the person on the other end.

"Sick day, my ," Bang Yongguk was saying. He snickered in his deep, throaty voice, making Sungjong wonder not for the first time how the heck puberty had hit him so well. "I bet you're having a hell of a time kicking back and watching TV, or whatever. What made you decide to fake being sick today, little guy? Finally had enough of Kris' terrorizing? Or has Woohyun's laziness rubbed off on you?"

"I really am  feeling ill! I didn't take today off just for a break, you know," Sungjong replied indignantly. "I've swallowed an entire bottle of aspirin and my headache still  hasn't gone away. Plus, the medicine hasn't done much for my cough, either. Keep away from me tomorrow unless you want to get sick as well."

Yongguk laughed again. "Alright, alright, keep your shirt on. I was only messing with you. But if you think that I'll actually get sick like you," he added, "Then think again. It'll take more than a puny cold to bring down Bang Yongguk."

"I'm sure." Sungjong rolled his eyes at Yongguk's boasts. Talk about being modest.

There was a brief pause. Sungjong took this as an opportunity to toss more pretzels into his mouth. But just as he was on his second bite, Yongguk asked out of the blue, "Hey, are you gonna skip work again on the 21st?"

A moment passed before Sungjong answered back.

"... Yeah," he said quietly. Slowly, he lowered the snacks back onto the plate. His eyes, out of habit, travelled over to where a calendar was hanging on the wall. November 21st. It was there, circled in red ink just like every other important date Sungjong had lined up for this month- marked like November 1st, when he'd had his dentist appointment, or November 30th, when his phone bill needed to be paid. Only this date didn't have a memo in it. It was the only one that didn't have writing scrawled in the box.

"We'll ask for the day off, pay our respects, visit the old house... It's almost become a tradition now."

It wasn't written down, but that was okay. He didn't need a note to remind himself what would be happening on that particular date. Sungjong would never forget what had happened on the day of November 21st...

The slender male cleared his throat.

"Yeah, I am," he said in a louder voice. He forced himself to look away from the calendar. "I, um, I'll be going away that day, to... To, you know. With Myungsoo. Just like every year. Um, we're gonna go and visit... I mean, it's pretty important-"

"I get it," Yongguk interjected through his rambling. "I thought you'd be taking the day off again. I know how much it means to you. I was just making sure, little guy. Wouldn't want to break that date with Myungsoo, after all."

Sungjong nearly choked. "I-I-It's not a date!" he spluttered, instantly forgetting about his previous thoughts.

Yongguk made a tsking noise with his tongue. The two friends weren't talking face-to-face, but Sungjong could have sworn there was a smirk twisting Yongguk's mouth right now. "Mmhmm, maybe not for Myungsoo. You, on the other hand... Huh. I'm serious, punk. When are you planning on telling him?"

"Telling him what? I don't have anything to say to Myungsoo," Sungjong shot back nervously. He grasped hold of his sleeve and started picking at the threads- it was a habit he'd had ever since childhood, something he'd never quite managed to get rid of. Myungsoo had always commented on how bad it was for both his clothes and giving away the anxiety in his feelings.

"Don't lie to me," Yongguk's tone was a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Myungsoo may not see it, but I do. Actually, everyone else can see it, too. Chaerin was just telling me yesterday how if you don't make a move soon, she'll write the confession note for you and send it herself."

"Chaerin is ridiculous. I have no idea what you guys are talking about," was Sungjong's stubborn reply.

Before Yongguk could scoff an answer back, a loud beep  emitted from Sungjong's telephone. Flustered, the younger man checked the phone screen, then spoke back into the receiver. "Look, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Someone's calling from another line."

He hastily ended Yongguk's call before the older man had a chance to say anything. Still bothered, he tried to calm the wild thoughts scrambling his head before pressing the button to put the other caller through. Seriously, that Bang Yongguk! Since when had he turned into such a love guru? Sungjong had always known about Yongguk's incredibly sharp intuition, but didn't think that his perceptiveness would extend to this  kind of matter. Sighing, he shook his head and tried to focus on the phone call. Maybe his new caller, whoever it was, would help distract his mind from the stress known as Kim Myungs-

"Hey, Sungjong."

On second thought, never mind.

Sungjong was really, really  glad that Yongguk wasn't in the room with him- he was sure he would have never heard the end of it otherwise. "H-Hi, Myungsoo! How're you doing? What's up? Are you done with work already?" Then he mentally slapped himself. There was no need to be so nervous. It was only Myungsoo, after all.

Thankfully, the ravenet didn't seem to notice Sungjong's jittery tone. "Yeah, I finished an hour ago. You'd better prepare yourself for when you get back, Sungjong. We got sent on a case this morning, and you're not gonna like what it is." He sighed. Sungjong could imagine him sitting at home alone, a mixture of frustration and tiredness lining his face.

Talking about work helped steady Sungjong's nerves. For a moment, he forgot all about Yongguk's teasing and his feelings of anxiety. "Why, is it that bad?"

"I'd say so. A girl was found cut open with slashes everywhere on her body. Her organs were spilling out, and the killer carved her face pretty badly, too-"

"Okay! Okay! I get the picture," Sungjong cringed. Myungsoo let out a dry laugh.

"Sorry, I forgot how squeamish you are with this stuff."

Sungjong readjusted the phone in his grasp. "I'm not squeamish, I just think you're describing it a bit too graphically."

"Sorry."

There was still a note of exhaustion and stress in Myungsoo's voice. Sungjong figured that it'd been a rough day for him- even talking about it was probably making him tired. He decided to change the topic, and asked his friend the first question that came to his mind. "So... You said we had to work with that new guy, right? Lee Sungyeol? How is he so far?"

"What?" Myungsoo sounded startled, as if Sungjong had broken through his heavy train of thoughts. Then, realizing that the topic had changed to a certain  brown-haired male, his tone soured a little. "Oh. Him. Yeah, he is... Guess you'll be able to meet him when you come back tomorrow."

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how Myungsoo felt about the guy. "Is he really that bad?" Sungjong wondered, reaching for another pretzel. Only, he didn't eat this one- he picked it up and played with it in his hands, rolling the baked bow tie over and over between his fingers.

Annoyance now took over Myungsoo's previously tired tone. It wouldn't have been so obvious to a stranger, or maybe even a close acquaintance, but Sungjong could tell. He had known Myungsoo long enough to know when a slight edge was underlying his voice, and what it meant (usually it was when he was irritated with something, or, in this case, someone). "Yes. No. I mean- I don't know, Sungjong. I've only known him for a few days; it wouldn't be fair to make such hasty judgements now."

"So you don't like him."

"... Not really," the dark-haired man admitted. He ignored Sungjong's chuckle as he continued on with his little speech of complaints. "It's so hard to tell what he's thinking most of the time. With other people, it's easy to see how they're feeling inside, but not him. It's kind of like he's wearing a mask- even his eyes don't show any emotion. And on the rare occasion that they do, it's either arrogance or something that nobody knows what it is, only him."

"If you ask me, he sounds like a more mysterious version of Kris," Sungjong jokingly mused. He heard Myungsoo let out another sigh, and thought teasing him probably wasn't the best way to cheer him up. He said instead, "But that's why? That's the only reason you have to explain your dislike?" Because if he did, Sungjong wondered how Myungsoo honestly felt about Kris and his  all-too smug personality.

It took a minute for Myungsoo to answer back. Maybe he was tired, or maybe he actually had to think  about his answer. Sungjong suspected it was the latter of the two. "No. No, I don't think that's it... I already told you, I don't know. There's just something about Lee Sungyeol that gets to me. Who knows if he's doing it on purpose, or what."

"Well, I hope you two solve whatever problems you have with each other," Sungjong replied. "You know it isn't good for cases if two agents don't see eye-to-eye."

"I don't need you lecturing me on this. I'll try, though." Adding a brief goodbye, Myungsoo hung up on the conversation. Sungjong was left alone on the line. For a drawn-out moment, he simply sat in his chair, listening to the dull drone of the dial tone. And then:

"Thanks for calling," he said quietly, then eased the receiver back into place.